Prologue

September 1688

Somewhere between MacPherson and Mackintosh lands…

The sun was shining outside the small cave where they habitually met. May MacPherson watched it dance over the familiar fields of heather, then turned to look at her longtime friend, Evander Mackintosh.

How long had they wandered these hills and fields together and explored every loch and stream and stone between MacPherson Keep and Mackintosh Castle? She didn’t know, but she was all too aware that her feelings for Evander were no longer purely friendship. She might have been mortified, save that she knew Evander’s feelings had changed to match hers as they grew from bairns to youths.

As if in answer to her thoughts, Evander’s hand slid into hers, his lightly tanned skin only a few shades darker than her own, and flawless as May knew her own could never be. From the forearms to her fingertips, her skin was smooth and tanned. Under the cloth of her blouse and skirt, however, it was a different story.

Her upper arms, shoulders, chest and back were heavily marked with long, slashing scars and small, rough-edged furrows – the price she’d paid as a child when she’d saved her cousin Ava from a pack of winter-starved wolves. Most of the time, she hated to even think about the scars, but Evander never made her feel self-conscious, despite never having seen them either, save for the very edges on the rare occasions she pushed her sleeves back while they were engaged in some activity or the other.

“Ye’re fretting again.” Evander lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Ye ken I dinnae mind yer scars. Why should I? Ye’re still the most beautiful lass in all the Highlands, and scars are proof ye’re as brave as ye are beautiful.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her wrist, then turned and kissed her again, this time on her cheek. May turned her head and kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his chapped lips against hers.

When they finally broke apart for air, Evander smiled. “That’s better. I’d hate fer ye tae looks so pensive when I’m telling ye the news I brought from home.”

May felt her heart skip a beat. “And what news is that?”

Evander grinned, his whole face lighting up with joy. “I finally mustered the courage tae ask me faither tae seek out yers tae discuss a potential betrothal between us. And he agreed that I should extend an invitation tae yer faither, tae ask fer yer hand and formally ally both our clans through marriage.”

May felt her heart leap in her chest. “Ye’re serious?”

“Aye. The formal messenger should be leaving Mackintosh Castle fer yer faither’s castle taeday, but I wanted tae tell ye in person tae make sure ye’re happy with the idea.”

She gave him a mock-indignant look. “Did ye think I wouldnae be? ‘Tis nae like I’d kiss any other lad the way I just kissed ye.”

Evander threw his head back and laughed. “I should hope nae.”

May smiled to see his easy mirth, though her delight faded as she contemplated the matter. Having the permission of Evander’s father was a blessing to be sure, but they’d need her father’s as well, in order to avoid causing strife between the two clans.

“Here now, ye look fair sad of a sudden.” Evander pulled her close. “What’s troubling ye, me love? Ye cannae think yer faither will refuse the alliance, dae ye?”

“I dinnae. ‘Tis me fear he willnae make time fer it at all.” May sighed. “Ye ken he’s always had a poor relationship with laird Scott MacDonell, but ‘tis grown fair worse of late. There are rumors that there is tae soon be an all-out feud – if nae a blood feud. With battle on the horizon, I dinnae ken if me faither will be willing tae make time fer seeing me married.”

Her father never had much time for her. She’d heard from the maids a long time ago about the circumstances of her birth, and how her mother had died bearing her. Was it any wonder Laird Conor MacPherson found other things to look at and love than the daughter who’d cost him his wife?

“I’m sure he’ll come around. After all, an alliance with our clan would make yer own safer. And even if that’s nae something he believes, surely he’s yer faither and will want ye happy and safe if trouble comes.”

May wanted to believe that, and was opening her mouth to say so, when rocks clattering across the ground outside their little hideaway made them both tense up. May clutched at Evander’s arm, hoping it wasn’t a wild animal whose den they had invaded.

Ever since the encounter with the wolves, wild animals terrified her, and so did some domestic ones as well. Dogs in particular, especially hunting dogs, but even harmless animals like rabbits and deer made her heart beat faster.

More clattering, and then a familiar voice rang out. “May! Och, May!”

“Killian,” May scrambled to her feet and out into the sunlight, with Evander a step behind.

Her brother was waiting atop his horse, his shorter blond hair disordered by the breeze and his expression tight with concern. His dark eyes were filled with urgency as he waved her over. Even if she hadn’t known something was wrong from that, she would have understood from the fact that he’d made no effort to dismount. Killian had always been tall for his age, and it was only recently that he’d stopped being so self-conscious about it. “There ye are.” A brief expression of apology filled his eyes. “I’m sorry tae be disturbing ye, when I ken how much ye enjoy these outings, but Faither sent me tae find ye, says ye’re needed back at the Keep with all haste.” He looked at Evander and nodded his respect.

She could hardly refuse a summons from her father, especially not when Killian delivered it. She and her older brother had always been close, and they did their best not to interfere in each other’s leisure time with friends or companions. May turned to Evander. “Me love, I must go. But I’ll be waiting tae hear from ye and yer faither.” She pressed a light, quick kiss to his mouth, then turned away.

Evander caught her arm. “I could come with ye. If there’s trouble, I could help protect ye, and speak tae yer faither direct.”

May smiled, touched by his words. “Nae. If there’s trouble, he’ll nae have time fer speaking tae ye. And as fer protecting me from trouble, me braither’s here. He’ll be seeing me home safely enough.”

“As ye will. I’ll be patient till our next meeting. And I hope tae be seeing ye soon.”

A last, quick kiss, and May swung onto her horse and followed her brother. They rode back to the familiar walls of MacPherson Keep at a fast walk, just short of pushing the horses to a run, and within the candle-mark, the horses were stabled and she and Killian were hurrying toward their father’s study.

Laird Conor MacPherson was a sturdily built man, who always seemed to regard May with a cool gaze. May looked for any sign that the Mackintosh’s messenger had arrived, hut her father looked as stern and remote as ever, save for a slightly furrowed brow.

He didn’t even greet them as he normally did. “Laird MacDonell’s declared a formal feud on us, and scouts have said he’s marching his warriors on MacPherson Keep. I want the two o’ ye tae be somewhere safe, so I’m sending ye tae me sister within the hour.”

Killian scowled. “I’m old enough tae help ye in the fighting.”

“Ye’re also me son and heir. Ye and yer sister can be used as hostages against me, and if ye’re hurt or killed, the clan falls. I willnae risk it.”

May swallowed hard against the forlorn feeling that filled her. For a moment, she’d thought her father was worried about her, but his words only reminded her of the truth – his concern was for his clan and her brother. She was a concern only in that she was a way someone could potentially endanger those things.

Even so, she needed to speak up. “Faither, the Mackintosh clan….”

“There’s nae time tae be thinking about that. The clan needs ye tae be safe.” His face was stern, unyielding, and she knew there’d be no convincing him otherwise.

She dipped her head. “I understand, Faither. But I’d like tae write a letter and ask ye tae send it tae Clan Mackintosh.”

She saw the glint of annoyance in his face, but he nodded and gestured to his desk and the writing tools placed there. “As long as ye’re quick about writing it.”

May nodded and went to the desk to pen a quick missive for Evander.

Once she’d finished writing the letter, she folded it over and sealed it. “Thank ye Faither. It is fer Evander Mackintosh. Can it be sent as soon as possible?”

“Aye.” Her father took the letter and tucked it away. May offered him a brief curtsy, then hurried to pack her belongings.

She had every faith that Evander would come to find her soon, and their betrothal and the alliance between their clans would be a reality. However, if she was wrong – if Evander’s love for her wasn’t as strong as his loyalty to his clan – then she’d know soon enough.

*****

Evander watched as May rode away with her brother Killian. He was worried about what might have caused her father to send his brother for her. He wished he could have gone with them, but he respected May’s request that he let them go alone.

Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too serious, and they’d be able to have the meeting for their formal betrothal and alliance within the next few days. And if it was serious, perhaps he could ride over to MacPherson Keep to speak to Laird MacPherson himself, and discuss the potential betrothal in person.

He’d have to speak to his father first though, to let him know that there might be a situation between the MacPherson and MacDonell clans. He was fairly certain his father wouldn’t refuse the betrothal or alliance because of a potential feud, but Laird Mackintosh would be furious if he discovered that one of his sons had risked the safety of the clan by knowingly holding back information about a danger to a potential ally.

With a sigh, he returned to his own horse and began the ride back to Mackintosh Castle. All he could do was return and wait for the reply from May’s father, Laird MacPherson.

Back at home, he sought out his father in his study. “Faither, was the formal betrothal request sent tae Clan MacPherson?”

His father huffed. “Aye, me boy. It was. Dinnae be so impatient. The messenger will return soon enough.”

“I ken. ‘Tis only that I care a great deal fer May MacPherson.” Evander swallowed hard. “And she just told me that Laird MacPherson is in a dispute with another o’ his neighbors – the Laird o’ MacDonell Clan.”

“Everyone kens that. But we’re strong enough, and the MacPherson’s have been good friends and neighbors tae us. A little thing like a feud wouldnae stop us from agreeing tae an alliance, especially nae an alliance by marriage. ‘Tis good fer both clans.” Just then, Alec Mackintosh, Evander’s oldest brother, opened the door and stalked over to throw an arm over his shoulder. “Faither’s right, braither. Be patient, and the messenger will return with word soon enough.”

“Aye.” Evander sighed, bowed to his father and older brother, then left the office. Perhaps some sparring would help take his mind off May while he waited for word from Clan MacPherson.

Chapter One

September 1698

Ten years later

May Mackintosh scowled as she worked on the ropes binding her arms. If she could just get her fingers around and a fingernail or two under one loop, she was confident she could loosen the bonds and free herself from the bindings.

The guards would be a different matter, but she’d rather make the attempt than even consider the fate that awaited her if she stayed where she was.

A pox-rotted plague on Scot McDonell’s land. Serves him right, fer the ten years o’ strife he’s given our clan, and all fer a marriage I’ll never agree tae, and lands that were never his nor his family’s tae claim!

The knots came free, and May smiled in triumph as she hurried to shake loose the ropes that had bound her for the past few days. Once free, she rose to her feet and searched her room for a weapon, feeling a little bit dizzy on her feet. There wasn’t much. The room was scarcely better than the prison cells of her family’s dungeon. There was a heavy door that was always locked, a pallet with pillow and blanket, and a hearth, currently unlit. Scot was determined to give her as few weapons and options as possible.

After a moment, May selected a relatively sturdy log from the woodpile for the hearth, to serve her as a makeshift club. A guard would be coming with food for her soon, and that would likely be her best, if not her only chance at escaping. She couldn’t waste it, especially knowing what Scot McDonell had in store for her clan.

He’d already told her, just after she was captured, and the conversation had made her blood run cold with fear and loathing. He planned to force her to the altar, then use the marriage as a way to draw her father and her brother into a position where he could kill them and take the clan and the lands they held by force. If May hadn’t already despised him before then, the way he spoke so casually of kin-killing made her sick, even if he hadn’t been referring to her father and brother.

She was distracted from her thoughts by the heavy tramp of the guard approaching her room. May dropped into a sitting position and hid the wood in her skirts, pretending to still be bound in place.

She might not have bothered for all the attention the guard paid her as he walked to the fire, set down her trencher, and began to poke the embers into a small, sullen blaze.

May clambered quietly to her feet, moving slowly and carefully as she’d often done in childish games trying to startle her brother. The guard paid her no mind. Fool.

As soon as she was in range, May lifted the wood and slammed it down on the guard’s skull with all the strength she could muster. The man crashed to the ground with barely a grunt. May stooped to check and make sure he was breathing. She hoped she hadn’t hit him too hard. Once she was sure he wouldn’t have any problems besides a lump on the back of his head, she stole his dagger.

Thus armed, her next step was to see how many guards there were outside her room. She knew she wasn’t in a large building, certainly not MacDonell Keep.

She stuck her head cautiously out of the room of what looked to be a village leader’s house or a prosperous crofter’s home. A short hall led to the main front room, and the front door, where two more guards were waiting.

If they’d both been alert and keeping a strict watch on her, she would have had no chance. But one was watching through the front windows, presumably for a rescue party or for his laird to return with the priest he’d threatened May with before he departed. The other was eating a quick meal on his own, sitting on one of the three chairs in the room.

Neither of them was paying any attention to the small side door that most likely led to the privy, or at least the rubbish pit. May moved as quickly as she could to the door and opened it with slow, quiet movements, just far enough to slide through the gap and outside.

Her first instinct was to run for the woods, but instead, she moved toward the front of the building. The men had horses, and they’d outpace her in an instant if she tried to escape on foot. It was better to try her luck at stealing a horse and seeing how much distance she could put between the guards and the cottage before they came after her.

They’d kept her blindfolded, and May had no idea where she was, but she was certain that any place she could wind up, besides MacDonell Keep itself, would be better than where she was now.

She was fortunate that the horses were tied loosely to allow them to eat, and that the knots were easy ones to undo. She was even more fortunate that the horses hadn’t been unsaddled. There must have been a change of watchmen at some point, for no proper Highlander would leave his horse saddled for two days. The only other explanation was that they’d received word they would soon be leaving. She hoped that wasn’t the case, as it meant she was in danger of encountering MacDonell soldiers on the road.

May chose the smallest and fastest looking of the horses and untied it. The horse made soft whickering noises, clearly surprised by an unfamiliar rider. She soothed it with gentle responses as she allowed the animal to get her scent, before she swung up into the saddle.

Even with her caution, she wasn’t quiet enough. The horses stamped and whinnied at the sudden movement, and she heard a shout from the house. With an oath, May put her heels to the horse’s sides and startled it into a run.

She had a head start, and she knew it. But the warriors were not put out by that. Even as one of them hurried to untie the other horses to give chase, his companion flung a blade at her. It might have been aimed to knock her off her seat, or to injure the horse into throwing her. It might even have been aimed at the horse to lame it slightly.

May leaned, twisted the reins to pull the horse out of the path, and swiped back with her stolen dagger to ward off the blade or any others he might throw. She thought she felt something glance off her lower arm, but she was too busy with swinging the horse back around and pushing it back into a run.

The small, barely visible track from the building branched into a larger path. May started to turn in that direction, then paused. The warriors of MacDonell would expect her to take the path, and if she chose the wrong direction, she might encounter more soldiers. Instead, she chose a passable section and sent her horse off the road, into the brush.

There was a good chance they’d be able to follow her trail, but only if they were looking for it. She rode as hard, not knowing if she dared to look back or slow down. She couldn’t hear any pursuit, but then she hadn’t heard the men who’d kidnapped her the first time.

There was nothing she could do save ride, and hope to find her way to safety. As she did, she couldn’t help thinking about all the circumstances that had brought her there.

Ten years before, Scot MacDonell had declared a formal feud with her father. She’d never known the reason behind the feud, if there was one beyond greed. But since then, it had been a constant struggle.

Scot had demanded she be given to him in marriage, along with a claim to the lairdship of MacPherson when her father passed, but Laird Conor MacPherson had adamantly refused to rob his son of his birthright and May had adamantly refused to marry a man who was an enemy.

There was only one man in the world she’d ever wanted to marry, and even if she had been forced to have stomached a loveless alliance marriage, she wouldn’t have accepted to marry Laird MacDonell. She simply couldn’t trust him to not to murder the entire rest of her family as soon as the wedding night was over.

Once again, she found herself remembering Evander. Her first and only love. Despite the ten years since their last meeting, the thought of him still made her heart ache.

She thought he’d loved her. Loved her enough to do anything for her, even convince his father to come to the aid of her family. But it seemed she’d been wrong about him – not that she could fault his decision. The fighting had been long and bloody, and it was little surprise that no other clans had wanted to involve themselves in the struggle.

She’d sent him a letter asking him to seek her out, if their love mattered enough to him to risk involving his clan in the fighting that engulfed hers. She’d waited for weeks, then months, for a response until she’d finally been forced to accept the bitter truth – silence was his answer, and his love for her had been no stronger than a summer blossom touched by frost.

It hurt, but at least Evander hadn’t lied to her, or pretended to accept obligations he’d no intention of upholding. From time to time, May had heard news of him. Rumor among the clans had it that the former Laird Mackintosh had passed away. Then she’d heard that Evander was betrothed to another. The news had hurt, for all that she’d tried to pretend it didn’t.

She wondered what life would have been like, married to Evander – what all their lives would have been like had the feud not interfered. It was far too easy to recall all the lovely days they’d shared, roaming the moors and hills, laughing and kissing as they walked hand-in-hand, or sprawled out on the grass as they talked.

May shook her head, banishing the thoughts of Evander. As easy and as tempting as it was to get lost in thoughts of the past, she had more immediate things to concern her. Night was falling, and the scent of rain was heavy in the air. She needed to find shelter, until she could find a way to return to her father and her brother.

Hopefully, she could find somewhere safe from Laird MacDonell’s soldiers.

There might be wolves. Just the thought was enough to make her reconsider her plans before she took control of her wayward imagination and faltering resolve.

In the twilight, everything seemed strangely familiar. Heartened by the feelings of recognition, she spurred her tired horse onward, toward the structure she thought she could see in the distance, a darker shape against the deepening gloom.

Storm clouds gathered overhead, and May shivered in the chill wind. She wasn’t dressed for traveling out in the open and in poor weather. A part of her longed to push the horse faster still, but the animal was already well-lathered and wearied from the hour-long flight over uneven ground in their effort to escape, and she dared not risk foundering or laming it.

The first drop of rain hit her nose as she crested the rise nearest the large building, and May stopped in surprise and slight dismay.

In the burgeoning gloom, she hadn’t recognized the castle, but this close, not even the growing deluge could disguise where her steps had led her. Somehow, she’d made her way to the steps of Mackintosh Castle. Part of her wanted to turn around and run for the hills once more, but the rain was coming down harder with every passing moment, and she was shivering. After a moment, May bit her lip and rode up to the gates to seek sanctuary for the evening. She might not like the idea, but even an encounter with her long-lost love was preferable to catching her death of cold, or being caught by Laird MacDonell’s men.

Ten years later and me heart still belongs tae the man who broke it. God’s grant, and he’ll nae be there… or I’ll have strength tae nae let him see me troubled if he is.

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