Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander (Brides of the Deadly Lairds #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Good heavens!” Marian Whitcombe gasped as her carriage bounced off a small rock. The wheels rattled, lurching forward roughly before they finally came to a halt.

She released a shaky breath, her fingers instinctively wrapping around the silver pendant adorning her neck. It had been her father’s dying gift to her, belonging first to her great-grandmother, the late Lady MacLeod—the very reason she was now in Scotland.

She leaned forward to tap on the inner wall of the carriage. “Have we arrived?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the coachman replied.

This is it.

Marian drew a deep breath before sliding open the small window, suddenly feeling hesitant.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered, her lips parting slightly as she peered at the looming castle ahead.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she set out for here. She knew that the Highlands were worlds apart from England in many different ways. And yet, even in her wildest imagination, she hadn’t been able to conceive the magnificent structure before her eyes.

Glen Carrick.

She stepped out of the carriage, lifting her skirts to keep the muddy ground from staining her hem.

“According to my uncle,” she whispered, more to herself than to her maid, “Glen Carrick had once been a proud Highland estate before the wars broke it.”

Lilly climbed down beside her, absentmindedly brushing dust off her apron.

“It certainly looks the part, my Lady,” she replied, forcing a smile.

Her eyes remained glued to the castle. As much as she tried to conceal her terror, her voice betrayed her.

“It is rather large. And it looks truly… empty.”

Marian nodded slowly.

She stood still for a moment, staring at the eerily enormous castle. Save for the wind tugging violently at her dress, standing in front of Glen Carrick felt surreal.

She had imagined this moment a thousand times over. It was all she could think of on the long journey north, and now that she was here, she didn’t know what to do next.

She wrapped her arms around herself as the wind swept across the courtyard. “This place… Could it truly become my home?”

For as long as she could remember, she had never truly belonged anywhere.

Her father had been the only source of warmth in the otherwise cold household where she had grown up, and when he had died, the house in London had changed overnight. She was often treated as nothing more than a useful tool, vulnerable to the vices of her calculating mother and her ambitious uncle.

Glen Carrick was her chance to finally live a different life. A life far away from both of them.

“It is already yours, my Lady,” Lilly said.

Marian smiled softly. “Yes, it is.”

The castle barely looked like a home. Its walls were a mass of dark gray stone, stretching so wide and tall that it swallowed all the light and cast a large shadow over most of the land. Its towers cut sharply into the cloudy sky, making it look more like a fortress, albeit a vulnerable one.

Marian glanced across the courtyard, taking in the state of disarray it was in.

“We have a lot of work to do,” Lilly murmured.

Marian nodded in agreement. “We can start with that,” she said, pointing to a part of the outer wall that had a gaping hole in it. “We do not want thieves coming in through there. Or invaders.”

“My Lady, we… I…”

“Do not worry, Lilly. I wouldn’t be burdening you with all the tasks,” Marian assured, walking across the courtyard. “Surely we can find workers in the Highlands, a couple of dozen at least, including maids you shall oversee.”

Lilly heaved a sigh of relief, quickening her pace to catch up with her obviously excited mistress.

“You’ll be the housekeeper. Though I’m afraid you’ll still have to put up with me. I am quite used to having you by my side.”

Lilly’s eyes lit up. “Shall we have tenants too, my Lady?”

Marian paused and turned to face her, a smile spreading slowly across her face. “Great thinking! The extra money could go into restoring the castle. And we certainly need to keep the land productive. I do not intend to ask my mama for help. We shall have tenants, and I shall also…”

The distant sound of voices pricked her ears, making her pause.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“Yes, my Lady,” Lilly whispered back, looking around uneasily. Her face dropped as she spotted something at the top of the castle. “I thought the castle was abandoned.”

Marian followed her gaze and noticed the thin streams of smoke drifting upward from somewhere within the walls. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“It is an abandoned castle,” she affirmed, her voice slightly higher than it had been before. “At least that’s what I was told.”

Lilly looked at her. “Perhaps the former tenants of this land were kind enough to send servants ahead to prepare the premises.”

Marian nodded, her eyes lighting up at the thought. “That would be most thoughtful of them. Come on ahead, Lilly. Let us see it for ourselves.”

They had barely taken a few steps toward the castle when a sharp sound split the air.

“My Lady!” Lilly gasped, almost tripping over her skirts in shock.

A bolt of lightning cracked somewhere beyond the ridge, followed by the distant thunder of hooves racing down the hillside.

Marian’s heart skipped a beat. “Are we being invaded? Already?”

“But we have only just arrived,” Lilly whispered, hiding behind her before the real threat even showed itself.

The land, which had seemed quiet and desolate just moments ago, suddenly felt alive with a wilder, less predictable energy. The ground vibrated slightly beneath the pounding hooves.

Marian stood there, frozen. She held her copy of the deed tighter.

It felt useless.

For the first time in her carefully controlled life, she realized she had entered a place where her status might not protect her at all.

“Lilly, find us a weapon!” she ordered, her wide eyes scanning the ground for anything that might be useful in defending themselves.

“My Lady, there’s nothing here but mud.”

The thunder clapped again, bringing with it a light drizzle. Marian tucked the paper safely in her dress before lifting her hands to shield her face.

A thin layer of mist crept across the muddy courtyard. Within moments, she could barely see more than a few yards ahead. The noise grew louder, hooves striking the wet ground at an alarming speed.

Whoever it is, they’ll be here any second now.

The realization had barely dawned when a gust of wind swept through the courtyard, scattering the mist just as quickly as it had gathered.

The riders burst through the gate. At their front rode a man on a horse with a golden mane that flashed like sunlight against the dark sky. He did not slow down. Instead, he pulled the beast sharply to a halt only a few yards from her, skidding and scattering mud across the courtyard.

Lilly grabbed Marian’s sleeve. “M-my Lady,” she stuttered, her voice shaking with fear.

The rider was a large, broad-shouldered man with long brown hair tied loosely at the nape. A bolt of lightning struck the ground, and Marian’s eyes caught the large battle scar that ran across his forehead.

His dark eyes gleamed with an intensity she’d never seen in Englishmen, and his short beard shadowed a jaw so sharply cut it looked almost carved from stone.

“Good heavens.” The words slipped past her lips before she could hold them back.

The invader wore a green-and-black kilt and a dark tunic. He had two swords strapped to his waist, ready to be drawn at any moment. Behind him, several equally intimidating Highlanders spread out across the courtyard.

Marian tried to count them.

Two dozen men. How on earth am I going to fight all of them?

He glared at her for a quick second before drawing a blade in one swift, fluid motion.

“Excuse me! I… I…” Marian stammered just as thunder cracked overhead, drowning the sound of her suddenly tiny voice.

The man advanced slowly on his horse, holding his gleaming sword. He seemed less of a man and more like some furious god of storms as he observed her.

Marian had precisely three seconds to decide whether he was going to kill her or merely terrify her into leaving.

“Excuse me,” she tried again.

But he spoke over her sharply in a language she’d never heard before. The words were fast and harsh, landing against her untrained ears like a slap.

“Cò iad sibh?” His voice rolled like the storm overhead, sharp, dangerous, and entirely incomprehensible to Marian. “Dè tha sibh a’ dèanamh air mo fhearann?”

Beside her, Lilly made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

Marian lifted her chin, meeting the stranger’s furious dark eyes despite the sword still gleaming in his hand.

She had not traveled three weeks from London, survived her mother’s coldness, and endured her uncle’s conditional affection just to be chased off her own property by an angry Highlander.

“I do not speak your language,” she replied in a much louder voice.

He frowned, seeming to realize she understood nothing of the words he said.

“Ah, English,” he said, like a curse, his thick accent bending his words. “Who the hell are ye,” he demanded, “and what are ye doin’ on me land?”