A Sinful Night with a Scot (Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan’s Clan Stories #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

C hapel near Gunn’s castle, June 1691.

Laird William Gunn & Elspeth Munro’s wedding.

Abducting a bride on her wedding day was something Laird Keane Mackay would never even have considered a year before. But as he had learned in painful detail, a lot could change in a year.

Standing at the back of the crowded chapel with his closest friend and trusted advisor, Alisdair Mackenzie, Keane’s stare remained fixed on the altar. His seething anger was barely contained as he clenched his fists to try and control himself. The two were adorned in peasants’ garb to try and blend in, but anyone who gave them more than a passing glance could tell they were warriors.

No matter his attire, Keane could not hide his height and muscular build. His long blonde hair and blue eyes also made him appear more Viking than Scots. While Alisdair was leaner with darker hair, the scar that ran across his jawline betrayed his frequency in combat. In fact, he was one of the best warriors in the Mackay Clan.

But they were not alone. Keane’s men had taken discreet positions. Some inside the chapel, some outside, awaiting his signal. It wouldn’t be long now until he could enact his plan, but as determined as Keane was to see this through, he felt a nervous tension in his stomach, matched only by his utter hatred of the man standing at the altar awaiting his bride.

That man had prematurely made Keane laird by striking his father down dead. He had ruined his life.

Laird William Gunn. The man who had to die.

The raw urge to launch through the chapel and strike him dead coursed through Keane, and with his jaw tightened, his fists clenched, and his body nearly trembling with rage, he made a desperate attempt to control himself.

But then, he felt Alisdair’s firm and steady hand press against his arm.

His close companion did not need to speak, for Alisdair’s thoughts were loud and clear.

“ Nae yet. Gunn is too heavily protected .” He nodded to one of the many attentive guards stationed against the stone wall. “ A direct confrontation now would be reckless and ruin our plan. As difficult as it is, ye must contain yer rage, me friend .”

Keane took a deep breath in to steady himself. Alisdair was right, but then, he usually was. Keane had not chosen him as his advisor simply because they were lifelong friends. His decision had been based upon the fact that Alisdair had always been the rational counterbalance to Keane’s intensity.

Ordinarily, they would speak freely, but under these circumstances, Keane’s gift worked in their favor. He and his younger sister, Iseabail had both been born with powers, passed down from the mystical lineage of their mother. While his sister had the ability to compel people to do whatever she wanted, Keane was able to read a person’s thoughts by mere touch.

Alisdair now looked at Keane, his thoughts backed by a furrowed frown of concern. There had been many conversations between them since his father had died. Alisdair, always upfront and straight to the point, had warned Keane that his obsession with revenge had become all-consuming, causing a darkness to swallow him and push him beyond restraint.

“Yer relentless grief has altered ye, me friend,” he had said only a few days before, once Keane and his men had set up camp for the night. But Keane had brushed off his friends’ words.

“What dae ye expect from me?” he had growled. “Surely, if ye were in me position, ye’d be as keen tae avenge yer own faither’s death.

Alisdair had slowly shaken his head. “Nay, Keane. This thing that has consumed ye isnae vengeance. It’s obsession. Yer pain is blinding ye. Every thought and every plan revolves around making Laird Gunn suffer.”

“As he should,” Keane had spat.

Alisdair had sighed. Gazing across the wooded area, he had said, “Are ye sure ye want tae go through with this? This lass is innocent.”

“It’s the only way,” Keane growled.

“That ye can see,” Alisdair had countered.

“We’ve gone over this a hundred times, Alisdair. We’re nae backing out now. The wedding is the best chance we’re going tae get. If we steal his bride, it’ll ruin his alliance with the Munro Clan.”

“Maybe, but Elspeth Munro is still innocent,” Alisdair had countered calmly.

“I dinnae care,” Keane had retorted, losing his temper. “Gunn needs this alliance. Without it, he’ll be weakened. Besides, nae being able tae protect his bride will humiliate him, which is the least he deserves.”

“And what happens tae the lass afterwards?” Alisdair had pressed, his own frustration evident in his tone. “Ye’re hardly going tae keep her locked in a dungeon for the rest o’ her life, are ye? Nay,” he snarled, answering his own question, “she’ll be slaughtered like ye’ve slaughtered every other who’s got in yer way.”

Granted, that was the only part of the plan that Keane was not wholly sold on, but then, there were casualties in any war, wasn’t there? Alisdair might be right. He was consumed. But he was willing to sacrifice any part of himself to see this through. His father’s memory deserved that much.

Now though, as he stood waiting for Gunn’s bride to arrive, thinking of what the end of this day would bring, a flicker of uncertainty crept in.

Can ye really kill an innocent lass? Warriors are different. But a lass?

He shook his head, as though trying to rid his mind of doubt, and clenching his jaw again, his thoughts came back to his objective.

Gunn must suffer. Whatever it takes.

Whispers travelled through the crowd of guests, starting from the back of the old stone building and travelling to the front, eventually bringing the chapel to silence.

This is it. She’s coming.

Keane readied himself for her entrance, noting Alisdair adjusting himself to stand a little straighter beside him. For a few seconds, nothing happened and tension rose in Keane, the anticipation building.

But then, he saw a shadow on the stone floor, and Elspeth Munro came into view. Seeing her, he took a steep breath in. It wasn’t the first time he had laid eyes upon her. Over the last few weeks, he and his men had followed her, watching her patterns. It had occurred to him that they could snatch her before the wedding, but she was always with guards.

Besides, he had realized later that taking her at the wedding in front of all those in attendance would have a much more dramatic impact, making Laird Gunn’s humiliation a hundred times worse.

Now, though, as she glided towards the altar, dressed far more beautifully than he had ever seen her, she looked almost angelic. Her long, raven-black hair was tied intricately upon her head. She was tall and slender, with a graceful regal beauty. Stunning, in fact, which was the very reason Keane felt almost frozen to the spot.

Catching himself, he pushed his distraction aside.

I only have one purpose here.

Glancing around the chapel, Keane saw that all his men had eyes on him, waiting for the signal. Clenching his fist, he suddenly lifted it in the air, and then, all hell broke loose.

His men yelled out a battle cry, causing gasps from the guests, and while they were distracted, Keane closed the distance between himself and the bride with precise swiftness. Already, he could hear swords clanging above the terrified cries and bellows of those in the crowd, the sounds echoing against the chapel walls. But determined in his resolve, he did not look behind him.

Only a few feet away now, he finally reached the Munro lass and grabbed her, causing her to shriek with fright. With her eyes wide with terror, she gawked at him, while Keane wrapped one arm around her and lifted her off her feet with little effort.

Alisdair was close by his side, ready to battle any who tried to stop them, but the fight continued further in the chapel.

“Stop them,” Laird Gunn bellowed, but his voice was drowned out by the yells of fear from the many people and the battle that was going on around him.

Laird Gunn’s men were currently battling Keane’s loyal warriors, and thus, had no chance to get near them. Without any hesitation, Keane ran towards the main doors and out into the light, leaving his men behind.

That was always the plan. They were never going to get out of there together, and thus, Keane had arranged to meet them at a disclosed location when it was all over. His men knew the risks and they also knew to make certain that they were not followed.

While Elspeth Munro was at first shocked at what was happening, she came round rather quickly once Keane and Alisdair were outside the chapel making their way to their horses.

“What are ye doing?” she yelled, thumping her fists against Keane’s strong arm. “Let me go this minute. Let me go.”

Keane ignored her, too busy trying not to get caught. Their horses were hidden in a dense group of trees not too far away and as good as Keane’s men were, Laird Gunn was certain to give chase, so they had to get as far away from there as they could manage in the shortest possible time.

The lass, however, was not making their escape easy, as she clawed and struck him. She caused him little pain, but her writhing about in his arm was making his journey difficult. She was certainly a feisty one.

“Ye’re going tae pay for this,” she screamed, flailing her arms and trying to punch his face. “Let me go, ye brute. Put me down this minute.”

Still, Keane ignored her, and weaving through the trees, twigs snapping underfoot, the horses soon came into sight.

“There,” he called out to Alisdair, who ran a few steps behind.

Upon reaching the horses, he dropped the woman to her feet, but kept a tight grip on her wrists. It didn’t stop her from writhing, her legs now kicking out, trying to strike him.

“Get the rope,” Keane demanded.

Alisdair frowned. “Dae ye really need?—”

“Get it,” Keane spat, turning to glare at his companion.

A second later, Keane roared as an excruciating pain travelled from his groin, splaying out across his body. Elspeth Munro had managed to hit her target, and as Keane bent double, Alisdair burst into laughter.

“Well, that’ll teach ye,” he chuckled.

With a face like thunder, Keane glared at Elspeth. Terror flashed across her face, clearly scared to death at what he was going to do in retaliation.

“Tie her up,” he groaned.

Alisdair bound her wrists, and a minute later, when Keane had recovered from her mighty kick, he lifted her onto his horse, mounting the beast behind her and pulling her back into him.

Keane fed the rope around her waist, before wrapping it around his own. Her thoughts had been crashing into his mind from the minute he had grabbed her, but now, on the cusp of escape, and her a little more subdued, he could hear her them clearly.

“What is going tae happen tae me? Where is he taking me? Oh, God. What is he going tae dae tae me?”

Those same thoughts, among a few others, swam around her head. Clearly, she was terrified and yet she had not once voiced her fear. In fact, she had surprised him, for she certainly was not the subdued and submissive bride he had imagined.

Ye didnae ken she had a strength about her.

As much as he nearly hated himself for it, he couldn’t help but admire her character. Most women would have crumpled into sobs of despair by now, but not Elspeth Munro.

That thought lingered with him as he and Alisdair thundered across the glens on the other side of the wooded area, the distance between them and the chapel growing every minute.

During his planning, he had been hellbent on killing her, for her death would certainly cause Laird Gunn to suffer. She was a tool in his revenge, a way to destroy the laird. For his father’s sake. But now, as he had her tied to him and they rode with great speed in their escape, doubt slipped into his mind.

Can ye really kill a woman? She’s innocent. How will ye be any better than Gunn if ye tak’ her life?

Keane had long stopped listening to his conscience. Since his father’s murder, he had changed. Just like Alisdair kept reminding him, he had grown dark in his views, and any rational thought had been pushed aside, seen only as a nagging voice, trying to steer him off his path.

On this occasion, however, his inner voice hit a nerve, and he now felt conflicted.

Should I kill her and complete me revenge once and fer all? Or is there another way tae make Gunn suffer? Maybe even more.

They travelled for another hour, his thoughts torturing him. On the one hand, he felt weak for keeping her alive. He had been determined in his path all this time. Why now, was he suddenly doubting himself? But on the other, his conscience continued to nag at him, telling him he wasn’t a murderer of innocent people, and that there had to be another way.

As dusk neared and they approached a small village, Keane was still no wiser as to what he should do with her. He could only be certain of one thing, the most important. Whatever decision he came to, Elspeth Munro now belonged to him.