Preview of My Notorious Highlander
Torrin MacLeod awoke to the sounds of his men talking outside the tent. Dawn had arrived but, being close to midsummer, 'twas still early, around four in the morning.
"Chief," Struan, his sword-bearer, said just outside.
"Aye?" Torrin sat up, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep.
"Riders approaching."
Having slept fully clothed in his belted plaid, shirt and doublet, Torrin pushed through the flaps of the tent and joined his clansmen. "How many?"
"Six or eight." His brawny sword-bearer narrowed his eyes and squinted into the distance.
Indeed, those approaching through the mist from the south rode along the trail by Loch Shin at a quick pace. "They're in a hurry."
"Aye."
The other six MacLeods in his own party stood at the ready, though they appeared deceptively relaxed.
He didn't have to tell them to prepare for an attack.
They all well knew anyone could quickly turn into an enemy.
He always took his best-trained guards with him whenever he traveled.
They'd just left Lairg the day before. After his business there was completed, they'd headed north toward Durness.
His good friend and foster brother, Iain Stewart, had wanted to accompany him, but Torrin had left while the man slept off a bad bout of drunkenness from the night before.
He didn't need Iain's help on this mission.
None of his men, except Struan, had guessed his purpose in going to Durness.
Of course, Struan could read him easily, and he knew Torrin held a keen interest in Lady Jessie MacKay.
An interest that had only increased over the last several months since he'd first met her, even though he hadn't seen her again.
She haunted him. Her flaming red hair and her bright blue eyes wouldn't leave his mind or his dreams. Never had he seen such a beautiful lady. She had the presence of a Norse goddess, tall, lithe, and statuesque… almost as tall as Torrin.
Not only were the clan elders hounding him about marrying, but he was ready for a wife.
At twenty-eight, he knew 'twas past time for him to marry and sire an heir.
His younger brother was already married and had a wee bairn, a lass.
He felt left behind. He'd arranged to marry Isobel MacKenzie, but Chief Dirk MacKay, Jessie's brother, had snatched Isobel from beneath his nose.
He didn't hold it against Dirk. Torrin had been uncertain of the match anyway.
But Jessie… she was a woman he didn't wish to let slip through his fingers.
The riders, swathed in belted plaids, slowed as they approached and eyed Torrin and his men cautiously.
They drew up as they came even with the camp. "A good morn to you," their leader said, his black hair in a queue, and a few days' worth of beard stubble darkening his cheeks.
"Good morn," Torrin said. "You're traveling early."
"Aye, we needed an early start to reach Durness on the morrow at gloaming."
"That's where we're headed as well."
Their leader and two more men dismounted. "Gregor MacBain, Chief of the MacBains." He offered his hand.
"Chief Torrin MacLeod." He shook the other man's hand, noting that MacBain was shorter than him but also stockier.
Of course, most people were shorter than Torrin.
"Would you like to join us as we break our fast?
" He wanted to ask the man what his business was in Durness, but since they'd just met, he didn't want to pry.
Likely, the man would reveal his purpose before long.
"I thank you, but we've already eaten."
"It might be good to ride together into MacKay Country. A gang of a dozen or so highwaymen and outlaws troll the area." Torrin wouldn't add that his own brother, Nolan, had joined that gang. It saddened and shamed him greatly.
"Indeed?" Suspicion colored MacBain's tone.
"Aye. Donald McMurdo and Haldane MacKay lead them."
"Och. I've heard of McMurdo, a wily old highwayman who has murdered countless people."
Torrin nodded.
"And who is this Haldane MacKay?" MacBain asked.
"A lad of around twenty summers but still deadly. The youngest brother of the MacKay chief."
MacBain's dark eyes widened. "Any relation to Lady Jessie MacKay?"
"Aye, her youngest brother. You ken who she is?"
"I do indeed." The man gave a smile which could only be called nasty and cunning. "We were engaged in a trial marriage three years past."
"What?" Torrin blurted the word before he could stop himself, outrage and disbelief tensing his muscles.
The man's smile broadened. "I take it you ken who she is as well."
Torrin wanted to smash his fist into the man's face. "I've met her," he said instead, keeping his response discreet so as not to alert MacBain to his interest in her.
"She is lovely," the man mused.
Torrin had no inkling that Jessie had been in a trial marriage. That meant this bastard had taken her virginity and then cast her off like a worn-out shoe. Had she been hurt by his rejection, or happy to leave him? And why would he send her away? Was she barren or had he simply tired of her?
"So… you're no longer married to her?" Torrin inquired in a light tone.
"She was at my castle for a year and a day, as is customary, but…" MacBain shrugged. "I found someone else and sent Lady Jessie back to her family."
"Ah. So you found a more suitable wife."
"Aye, briefly. She bore me a fine son but she died soon after. I'm now in need of a wife again."
Torrin narrowed his eyes and nodded. Why hadn't the man kept Jessie as his wife in the first place if he was but chasing on her skirt-tails again? He disliked indecisive men.
"A chief must have a wife," MacBain said. "You ken what I'm talking about, aye? Are you married?"
"Nay, not yet. Soon, I hope."
MacBain nodded.
"Well, if you will allow us a few minutes to break our fast and finish packing up, we'll ride north with you."
"We need a rest anyway." He turned to his men. "Water the horses." The remaining MacBain clansmen dismounted.
Torrin's men had the camp mostly packed up and his cook was handing out bannocks within minutes.
While Torrin ate, he eyed MacBain. "I take it you are going to visit Lady Jessie."
"How did you guess?" The man smirked.
Torrin shrugged. He didn't like the cheeky bastard. He'd appeared friendly at first, but once he'd started talking about Lady Jessie and his deceased wife, he'd become highly unlikable. Obviously, he had no respect for women. Nor could MacBain make up his mind.
"Are you going to try to arrange another trial marriage with her?" Torrin took another bite of the bannock, although he was swiftly losing his appetite.
"Aye, she was rather smitten with me, so I'm certain she will be agreeable to it."
Hmph. She damned well better not be. Nay, Lady Jessie was intelligent.
She wouldn't submit to being the rushes beneath this man's muddy feet.
And if she even considered it, Torrin was bound and determined to change her mind.
She deserved a man who would treat her like a goddess. Torrin could do that.
Weeks ago, when Dirk and the MacKay party had stopped for a night or two at Munrick Castle, Torrin had been disappointed that Lady Jessie was not traveling with them.
For the second time, he'd asked Dirk for Lady Jessie's hand in marriage, but Dirk had said he wouldn't force his sister to marry someone she didn't wish to.
Torrin could understand that. If his younger sister were still alive, he wouldn't force her to marry anyone she didn't want to either.
A stab of sadness lanced his gut as it always did when he thought of Allina.
He pushed the cutting emotion away and focused on the beautiful image of Lady Jessie in his mind instead.
Every time he thought of her, his mood lightened even though she'd rejected him.
She simply didn't know him; that was all.
She was skittish and suspicious. But he didn't fault her for it; he didn't trust easily either.
He'd simply have to prove his worth to her. She made him want to be a better man.
Minutes later, after everything was packed onto the horses, the MacBains and MacLeods rode north.
Torrin hoped Lady Jessie would not give MacBain one moment of her attention. He didn't deserve it. Was there some other reason he was now going back for her? Torrin was certain it had naught to do with MacBain having any feelings for her.
Jessie's older brother, Dirk, was not in Durness, which prevented a marriage arrangement from being made, but MacBain didn't need to know that. He might try to use it to his advantage, or even try to steal Jessie away. Torrin refused to let that happen.
At midday, the sunlight and blue sky glimmered off the dark water of Loch Stack, near blinding him. They stopped to eat and allow the horses to rest. Torrin was staring at the snowcapped mountains in the distance and thinking about Jessie when MacBain approached.
"Why are you headed to Castle Dunnakeil?" MacBain asked. The bold whoreson obviously had no qualms about prying.
"Business. Land," Torrin said and continued eating.
Of course, 'twas a lie, but if he could indeed marry Lady Jessie, he would receive the land in her dowry—land that bordered his own.
And a marriage was a business deal in most cases.
Still, those things were of little importance to him at the moment.
He'd wanted a wife like Jessie most of his adult life.
'Twas as if God had taken the woman from his imagination and created Jessie.
He'd never say that aloud, of course; people would think him mad. At times, he wondered if indeed he was going a bit mad. He dreamed of her often, and she occupied his mind during the day. His primary concern now was protecting her from this wily MacBain bastard.
MacBain sat on a rock near him. "I understand Jessie's father passed last fall. Do you ken her brother, the new chief?"