Chapter One
Callen Sutherland’s kiss threatened to devour the only woman who’d ever spurred an all-consuming desire.
He and Elspeth Elliot stood hidden in her horse’s stall as they stole one more, no, two more, kisses before pulling apart.
Neither wanted their interlude to end, but they knew her brothers and their friends would soon discover them in the stables.
“Be careful while ye’re away from the keep, wee one.”
“You know I will be.”
“Aye, but ye ken how I worry aboot being so close to the border.” Just the mention of the Scottish border with England was enough to make any Highlander wary.
“Cal, I grew up less than a league from the border at Redheugh. It’s no different from being here at the Armstrongs’ keep. Mangerton Tower is just as close.”
“I wish I could go with ye, but I ken yer da’s getting suspicious. He suggested I needed more time in the lists.” Anyone who glanced at the towering Highlander knew he’d spent more than sufficient time in the lists since he was a lad. Callen could’ve spared a day.
“I know. We won’t be long.”
Callen’s hands trailed over Elspeth’s lower back until they reached her backside, which he gave a quick squeeze. “It willna be long before I request an audience with yer father.”
“I don’t want to wish this visit away, but I want to get to the day where you can ask him for my hand.”
“I ken. I feel the same. Mayhap we dinna wait until our families are ready to leave. Mayhap this eve.”
The couple stared at each other before grinning and nodding. They came together for another kiss. Callen’s tongue caressed hers before she sucked gently on it. They’d shared other kisses before, but little more. This wasn’t the place to try for more when they heard voices approaching.
“Have fun, wee one.”
“See you after the nooning.”
Callen stepped out of the stall and walked Elspeth’s horse with him. He glanced over his shoulder once as he crossed the bailey, and she joined the group about to ride out.
*
Callen looked up from his pottage as the keep’s main doors swung open, and a small body squeezed past an enormous guard.
“They took her!” Lily Armstrong ran toward the men and women on the dais.
“Who?” Her father, Laird Alexander, boomed as he rose.
Callen had a sinking feeling, knowing Lily rode out with her older brothers along with their neighbors, the Elliot brothers and sister.
“Men grabbed Elspeth right after she threw me onto Tavin’s mount. He brought me back, then took off with the others.”
Lily’s oldest brother must have ridden closest to Elspeth when the attack began. Callen didn’t want to examine why that bothered him so much, reassuring himself it was because Tavin wanted to be close to Lily.
“How many men, Lily?”
“A score, Da.”
Callen pushed back his seat, then pushed past the men who’d sat closer to the edge of the dais and now blocked him.
He practically shoved Elspeth’s father, Laird Angus Elliot, from the raised platform.
He squatted, bringing himself nearly eye level with the much younger girl.
He wanted to demand information, but he didn’t want to scare the lass.
“Lily, did they say aught? Did they sound like ye or me? Or were they Sassenachs?” Callen barely kept from spitting the last word.
“Not like you or me. They didn’t say much, but they sounded English.”
Lily’s Lowland accent varied noticeably from Callen’s Highland brogue. But no one cared about that observation.
“Ye ken I’m the best tracker here.” Callen said nothing more as he bolted to the front doors.
“Callen!”
He heard his father, Lachlan Sutherland, call to him, but he didn’t slow as he passed through the doorframe. He knew the others would catch up. He wanted to know what the guards saw. He recognized a man and called up to him.
“Did Tavin say aught when he brought Lily back?”
“Nay, but he rode out like his arse was on fire. He’s never rough with his sister, but he practically dropped her from his mount.”
“Did any guards ride back with him?”
“Nay.”
If Callen’s heart weren’t already racing, it would be now. If Tavin rode back alone with only his sister, it was because the rest of the party didn’t believe they could spare the men.
“Callen?”
“Aye, Da. The guard said only Tavin returned with Lily. He didna come with any men. He put Lily down and turned around and flew out of the gates.” Callen watched as Alex Armstrong and Angus Elliot barreled down the keep’s steps.
“Da, if Tavin didna even stop to request more men, he was in a panic. That isnae like him. He wasna thinking beyond getting his wee sister back here and returning to the search. I dinna like this at all. Ye ken we’re less than two leagues from the border. ”
“I ken. It’s nay secret ye’re the best tracker, but this isnae our land, and she isnae our lass.”
“Da, I’ll let Laird Elliot lead because Elspeth’s his daughter, but ye must ensure he listens to me aboot where to go. Otherwise, I’ll leave him and the rest of ye behind.”
“Sutherland!” Father and son turned when Angus bellowed as he jogged toward them. “Lachlan, your son may spot a midge on a sow’s arse, but she’s my daughter.”
Callen and Angus glared at one another. It was a thinly kept secret that Callen and Elspeth had eyes for only each other.
They’d met three Christmastides ago when the Elliots and Johnstones visited the Armstrongs.
The three clans were together now for the upcoming Samhain celebration.
Callen’s mother was a Johnstone before she married into the Sutherlands.
Callen spent five summers fostering with the Lowland clan, and his family often visited whenever time and weather permitted.
The younger man bit his tongue, heeding his father’s silent warning. Katerina Elliot came to stand beside her husband; fear filled her expression. Angus tucked her against his side as they whispered. “Angus, listen to him, please. You know he’ll do aught to find her.”
No one needed to guess to whom Katerina referred.
Callen felt his cheeks warm. It was one thing for Angus to snarl at him because of the ever-present rivalry between Highlanders and Lowlanders.
But it was entirely another when Katerina pointed out Callen’s poorly concealed feelings for the couple’s only daughter.
He’d made no declarations to anyone, so he didn’t appreciate someone doing it for him.
“Then why wasn’t he with her?” Angus snapped before kissing the top of his wife’s head, regretting letting his temper flare toward a woman who’d stood beside him for decades.
“Ye wouldnae let me,” Callen hissed. He turned away from the couple and his father, moving toward the stables. It irritated him that they stood around the bailey clishmaclavering instead of riding out. Stable hands had already brought out several horses, so Callen walked to his.
Ridire Dubh, or Black Knight, was an enormous stallion.
He’d been born at the darkest hour of the night.
He also had an ebony coat and was still the largest foal any Sutherland could remember.
He’d been a warhorse since the moment he put his four hooves on the ground.
Callen thought the name suited his mount.
He stroked between his steed’s eyes before resting his forehead where his hand had just been.
“I need ye to be ma eyes and ears as much as the ones I have. We must find Elsie.” Callen trusted his horse more than anyone unrelated to him.
The animal had the keenest senses he’d ever seen.
The horse smelled, heard, and saw things before any other man or beast. Coupled with Callen’s keen observation skills, innate sense of direction, and patience, they were the best trackers around.
Only Lachlan’s cousin, Magnus Sinclair, was better. He’d trained Callen.
“We ride.” Angus mounted and gave the order, the rest of the men following.
Over a score rode out of the bailey. In their breeks and doublets, the Johnstone men easily blended in with their Lowland counterparts, the Elliots and Armstrongs.
But the Sutherlands stood out with their breacon feiles, or great plaids, and their size.
Callen’s nearly black hair and all black horse stood out in particular.
Some said he rode like one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
He’d always replied he was clearly too large to represent famine, but he took no issue representing conquest, war, and death.
As he charged toward the border, he’d never meant a sentiment more.