Chapter 2
Much earlier, Scott Dunlop, the young Laird of the Falkirk Clan, was seething, having ruined his supper by having it with the Clan’s elders, who proceeded to pick him apart piece by piece. To them, they were simply stating what needed to be done, to him, they were worse than a nagging wife.
Out of all the cases they brought to his table, marriage was the one most hammered on. It was almost the only thing they spoke about anytime they saw him. One of them had even gone ahead to threaten him. If he did not find a wife to birth his heirs, the Lairdship would go to another man who could.
Another man being one of the bastards his father’s many mistresses bore for the old rake.
Members of his own court had threatened to hand over his rightful position to an illegitimate child when they were fully aware of his struggles ever since he became the Laird?
His battles had become somewhat of a monthly occurrence as one bastard or another of his father had risen against him, challenging him for the title of Laird.
He had half-brothers from his Clan and from others, and they were all seeking the one thing his father had ever given to him.
Each battle cost him men, money and his attention.
His Clan was bleeding, but he did not have the time to attend to it just yet.
Though as much as it annoyed Scott, he had to admit that finding a wife to bear an heir would be much faster, but the thought of marriage itself was unappealing to him.
While he was nothing like his father, he knew all women were like his father’s mistresses.
Each one was disgustingly vile toward him as they raced toward being the new Lady of the Castle.
His own father barely saw him, which left him as an easy pick for the old Laird’s women.
Scott was convinced, when a man was in a position such as his, women would do anything to get close to him.
That was a trait that so disgusted him, but he did not have that much of a choice this time around.
His elders had even gone out of their way to find him a wife.
The daughter of a neighboring enemy clan all in the name of truce and fattening up his Clan’s treasury once more.
He had met her once, and he’d be damned if he married the lass.
His guards parted or outright dashed out of his line of sight as he made his way toward the training grounds, his personal guard and war chief a good distance behind the fuming Laird.
Scott wanted to pummel his fists into something, preferably one of his elders, but he would have to settle for a spar with either his war chief or his personal guard.
The night was chilly, the moon barely visible, guards were scattered about the Castle grounds in pairs. Scott paused a few feet away from the entrance of the Castle, turning back to face the men following diligently behind him and he huffed out a breath.
“Ye really do want to get beaten up by me again?” Scott’s olive-green eyes fell on his personal guard, Conner, who averted his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on the man’s face.
“’Tis honestly going to be the other way around, me Laird,” his war chief, Adrian, replied earning a huff of a laugh from Conner.
“We’re always here if ye want someone to spar with.
The training grounds are empty by this time, and even if it wasnae, I doubt some poor guard would be willing to risk the broken bones just to pacify ye. ”
“If ye want to pacify him, bring him an elder. ‘Tis sure to work faster.” Conner mused, earning a jab to the side from Adrian.
“Dinnae make matters worse, Conner.” Scott shook his head as Conner was quick to deliver a comeback at his superior. He doubted he even wanted to spar anymore. He settled for looking around the Castle grounds until something caught his eye.
The defense formation of his men was flawless which was why he was shocked yet impressed when he saw the faint outline of a person draping a cloth over themselves.
He did not see clearly, but he could make out curly red hair that was soon tucked into the cloth.
He became certain it was a woman when he saw her gather her dress. He almost chuckled.
Pointing toward the moving outline, Scott smacked Conner on the shoulder to get his attention. “A lass has snuck in.”
“How, the formation—” Adrian started but was waved off by Scott, who had started to move toward the outline. The more he followed the lass, the more questions he developed in his head for her. Who was she? Where had she come from? Why was she there? More importantly, how did she get in?
With just Conner and Adrian behind him, they had no light, which made Scott have a few of his men go ahead of them.
They followed the lass to the garden, and Scott watched as she harvested the crops that had been planted while muttering to herself occasionally.
Scott was more amused than angry. She had snuck into the heavily guarded castle for a sack of food?
She did not seem to notice them as she started to fill her sack.
Her cloth from earlier, turning out to be a hooded cloak, was pulled down to reveal her wild mane of red hair, her lamp on the ground next to her gave him a good view of her side profile, but that was it.
Yet, he found himself leaning toward her, a small smile growing on his lips. She was a young beauty. How desirable.
He was about to reach for her when one of his men with the light moved closer to her, yelling at her, which caused her head to snap up in their direction. Scott drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the lamp’s light on her face.
She was truly beautiful.
He approached his men and the lass, but she had already been spooked. Never had he seen a lass run that fast, but then again, this particular one had been surprising him since he laid eyes on her. He had found himself a wild cat, and he was not letting her slip away that easily.
Apparently, wild cats were difficult to catch, and Scott was starting to realize.
The lass had dragged him and a good handful of his men outside the Castle walls before she dived headfirst into the forest. Scott would have gone after her, but Adrian was quick to hold him back much against his wishes while Conner and the guards dashed in right after her.
Adrian kept a firm grip on Scott, who could not break away from him despite his strength and aggressiveness. “Unhand me!” Scott tried to claw the larger man’s hand off his arm but winced when the grip got tighter. “For Heaven’s sake, unhand me, ye brute!”
“I cannae do such a thing, me Laird. We are at war with multiple clans and the lass might as well be a spy.” Adrian argued back, and Scott continued to violently struggle in his hold.
“She was stealing food! What spy would steal food? She was obviously from one of the villages.”
“Even if she was, me Laird, ye will not enter the forest on such a night. The moon hides from us, the stars refuse to shine, and ye have nay lamp with ye. Anyone or anything could be lurking in these forests. I say we wait until Conner gets back.” Conner emerged from the forests almost on cue, his black hair a mess and a lamp in his hand.
“Did ye find anything?” Scott pushed away from Adrian, who let him go and Conner nodded in the direction he had come from.
“Aye. I let her go.”
“Why?” Scott narrowed his eyes at Conner. “She could have been a spy!”
“Ye are being hypocritical now, me Laird” Adrian said from behind Scott but was ignored. “And Conner, I thought ye said ye found nothing earlier?”
“Aye,” Conner turned to his superior. “I did find her then, but she looked terrified. She was nae a spy as she mentioned she was from Ayrshire Village. I figured we could find her when the morn comes. If we take her now, I doubt we will be getting anything useful from her. Scratches, bites and kicks at most, me Laird.”
Scott scoffed at his guard as more of his men started to emerge from the forests. “And what if she is nae from the village? Perhaps she lied to ye, and now ye let a spy escape.”
“Again, me Laird, ye are being hypocritical.””
“Silence, Adrian!” Scott snapped before jabbing a finger in Conner’s chest. “Find me that lass before breakfast on the morrow or else.”
“As ye wish, me Laird.” Conner gave a curt bow before Scott turned toward the Castle. He was certain if Adrian had let him go instead of Conner, he would have fished out the lass with no trouble.
Still, he found her all the more alluring.
The feats she performed before him alone were enough for him to applaud her.
Scott found himself in the direction of the garden, picking up her discarded lamp and sack.
He hoped she would not have a hard time getting back to her village without the lamp.
His gaze went up to the sky. It was a dark night.
He smiled at the memory of her face. He couldn’t wait to see her properly in the daylight.
Looking down at the sack and lamp in his hands, his heart tightened in his chest at the guilt that overwhelmed him.
Had he abandoned his Clan so much, theft was now common?
A lass of all people, how desperate could she have been?
The lass had left other farms and gone directly for his, going as far as sneaking into the Castle grounds. This spoke badly of his reign.
Perhaps he could bring her the vegetables she had come for when he finally found her?
No. What was he thinking? He couldn’t be that infatuated with the lass.
She was a thief, possibly a spy. She had to be punished at least, or the next thing he knew, the villages would turn his grounds into a picking field.
He hated disrespect, it caused conflict, dispute and he’d be damned if he let a wild cat of a lass start getting even, he would not be able to finish.
He had to set a line before he was run over.
But what would he do to her? What could he do to her?
With what he had seen, she seemed skittish.
Conner had said she looked terrified when she had been found by him.
He did not want to scare her away, but he could not be lenient with her.
Thieves were not easily spared. Their punishments could range from a public lashing to death.
What would be a fitting punishment?
The question plagued his mind as he trailed toward his bedchambers, lamp and sack still in his hands.
His guards either scattered or straightened up at the sight of him.
Their Laird’s mood could change as fast as one could flip a silver coin, and no man wanted to be on the receiving end of any of his negative moods.
Scott never seemed to notice their reactions, or perhaps he did but could not be bothered to speak about it.
He had other things to think about anyway.
He locked his door behind him on getting to his chambers before carefully placing the sack and lamp on his desk.
The chamber was fairly lit by the candlelight near his fur-covered bed.
He unlatched the windows, opening it to let a little bit of the moonlight in; if any had shown up.
Scott leaned against the window frame, a lock of his blond hair falling out of place over his forehead.
With a frustrated sigh, he latched on to his hair, ruffling it out of place.
He let his hand run over the fresh undercut at the back of his head before it fell to his side.
Even if she was a normal lass, he doubted he would be this worked up about it. He would have her punishment assigned almost immediately. He saw nothing but his infatuation with the lass standing in his way.
Her hair, he saw it properly. It was the color of the leaves during autumn.
The long curls waved freely behind her as she fled, almost as wild as their owner.
He was sure it was her hair that started his infatuation.
Then he saw what he could of her cherubic freckled face, her eyes, a light shade, he was unable to determine what color they really were.
With what he had seen, he could only describe her as beautiful, nothing more and nothing less.
Scott poked his head out the window, letting the chilly breeze blow by his face.
He rested his arms on the window frame as he looked down at the flower garden below his window.
All he had to do was wait. A lazy grin spread out on his face at the thought of the wild cat he would be capturing.
In the next few hours, he would get his hands on her no matter what.