To Steal a Highland Bride (Highlands’ Partners in Crime #29)

Prologue

The carriage wheels groaned over the Highland road, creaking each time they struck a stone hidden beneath the mud. The wind swept across the hills in mournful whistles, bending the tall grasses and bringing the scent of rain-soaked earth through the cracks in the carriage walls.

Lady Merith Donalson sat straight upon the cushioned bench with her gloved hands folded in her lap.

Or at least, they had been folded carefully moments ago.

Now, her fingers twisted together beneath the folds of her dark wool cloak, betraying the nervousness she tried so hard to conceal.

Across from her, her maid Shona prattled cheerfully while adjusting the ribbon of her bonnet for the third time that morning. “They say he is handsome, my lady. Yer betrothed.”

“Aye,” she murmured. “That is what they say.”

“And wealth besides,” Shona added, leaning in eagerly. “Och, ye should have seen the faces o’ the servants when the gifts came from Carnegie lands. Silk ribbons from Edinburgh. Honey cakes. That silver hair comb—”

“I remember,” Merith said softly.

How could she forget? The comb sat wrapped carefully inside her travelling chest, beautiful and cold and heavy as expectation itself.

Outside the carriage window, the Highlands rolled endlessly beneath gray skies. Mist clung to the distant mountains, softening their jagged edges while thin streams wound through the glens below. Sheep dotted the hillsides like scattered clouds fallen to earth.

It was beautiful… and lonely.

Merith had always loved the Highlands fiercely, even when they felt too large for her restless heart.

Shona sighed dreamily. “Perhaps ye shall love him.”

At that, Merith’s gaze drifted to the rain-specked glass.

Love. Such a small word for something so uncertain.

Her parents had done everything possible to prepare her for this match.

New gowns dyed in rich colors their household could scarcely afford.

Fine wool cloaks trimmed with fur. A respectable dowry.

Even this comfortable carriage instead of the rough farm carts most folk endured across Highland roads.

They were not poor, but each winter grew harsher than the last. The harvests had been thin. Several tenants had lost livestock during the storms. Repairs to the keep’s eastern wall remained unfinished because there was simply not enough money.

Murdoch Carnegie’s proposal had arrived like salvation. Merith understood all of it, and still unease coiled in her stomach like a living thing.

She wondered if her heart would beat faster upon meeting him, as it did in the old songs the bards sang by winter fires. Would his presence quiet the restless feeling inside her… or merely teach her how to live beside it?

“What if…” She hesitated.

Shona tilted her head. “Aye?”

Quickly, Merith looked down at her hands. “What if he isnae the one?”

Her maid blinked before bursting into startled laughter. “My lady, ye speak as though ye expect a bard’s tale.”

Heat touched Merith’s cheeks. “I ken how foolish it sounds.”

“Nay.” Shona softened a little. “Only… men like Laird Carnegie arenae chosen fer love. They are chosen for safety.”

As the words fell between them, Merith turned again toward the window.

Safety.

Perhaps that ought to have been enough. Yet ever since dawn, a strange feeling had flickered in her chest. It was a restlessness she could neither explain nor silence.

Suddenly, the carriage rocked over another rut. Shona grabbed the side with a yelp.

“Mercy upon us,” she said, shaking her head. “Duncan drives like a blind goat.”

Merith laughed softly despite herself. “Duncan has traveled these roads since before I was born.”

At the mention of the old driver, affection warmed Merith briefly.

Duncan had served her family since her father was a lad.

He had taught Merith how to whistle through cupped hands and once smuggled sweet oat cakes to her after she’d been punished for climbing the stable roof.

She could still picture his weathered grin.

Duncan shouted something to the horses outside. Then, the carriage slowed slightly.

“Why are we stoppin’?” Shona asked, frowning as she tried to look through the small window.

Before Merith could answer, the horses screamed and the carriage jolted violently sideways.

It all happened too quickly. She barely had time to register anything.

Merith gasped as her shoulder slammed against the wooden wall. Opposite her, Shona shrieked.

The horses reared wildly outside while men shouted over the pounding of hooves.

“What is happenin’?” Shona cried.

Instinctively, Merith reached for the door handle just as the carriage lurched to an abrupt stop.

Then came Duncan’s voice. “Get back, ye bastards!”

A sickening thud cut him off and Merith froze.

Shona clutched her arm hard enough to hurt. “My lady…”

Heavy footsteps thundered outside. The carriage door burst open and the cold air rushed inside alongside the scent of mud and steel.

All of a sudden, a rough hand seized Merith’s wrist. “Out!”

She cried as she was dragged forward, her feet slipping against the carriage floor. “Let go o’ me!”

Shona screamed behind her.

Merith stumbled into the mud outside, nearly falling to her knees. Rain from the earlier storm had left the road slick and dark beneath her hands.

Four men surrounded the carriage. No… there were five.

Their faces were partly hidden beneath rough hoods and scarves, but their weapons gleamed plainly enough. One yanked Shona from the carriage while another rifled through the baggage tied to it.

Desperately, Merith twisted towards the driver’s seat. “Duncan!”

The old man lay crumpled beside the wheel, blood darkening his coat. One of the attackers stood over him with a blade in hand.

Once she put two and two together, her heart dropped.

“No…” she whispered, unable to find her voice.

Duncan groaned weakly, trying to push himself upright.

“Please!” Merith cried, stumbling forward through the mud. “Take the carriage if you want, only let us go!”

One of the brigands laughed harshly. “Hear that? The lady thinks she can bargain.”

Another seized Shona by the arm so roughly she screamed.

“Hands off her!” Merith lunged without thinking, clawing at the man’s sleeve and shoving against him with all the strength she possessed.

“Feisty lass, ain’t ye?” he snarled before throwing her back hard enough to nearly send her sprawling.

The man raised his sword again with a look in his eye that signaled he had every intention of killing.

That was when Merith lurched forward. “Stop!”

A hand caught her roughly by the shoulder. “Hold still, lass. Stay out of it before you get hurt yourself.”

She struggled against the grip. “Please! Please, dinnae hurt him!”

The attacker ignored her and the blade came down.

Merith felt the sound tear through her own chest as Duncan collapsed motionless into the mud.

For a second, the world went silent. She could no longer hear the wind, the horses, or even the shouting.

Everything faded beneath the ringing horror in her ears. Duncan was dead. The man who had carried her upon his shoulders as a bairn. Dead. Hot tears stung her eyes.

Then one of the brigands barked, “Search the carriage! Quickly!”

Another grabbed for Merith’s cloak, fingers tangling in the fabric as he hauled her roughly toward him. “This one’s worth coin.”

Shona cried out in terror. “Leave her be!”

Merith twisted violently in the man’s grip, striking at his face hard enough to make him curse.

Just as fast, another rider cursed. “Rider!”

Hoofbeats thundered across the road. They were fast and they were closing in rapidly.

All the men spun toward the sound.

Out of the drifting mist came a dark horse charging hard down the path. Its rider leaned low over the animal’s neck, cloak snapping behind him in the wind.

For the briefest instant, Merith saw only movement.

Then steel flashed. The newcomer struck the first brigand with terrifying precision, knocking him clean from his feet. The man crashed into the mud with a cry.

Madness exploded. The horse barreled between the attackers while its rider moved fast, drawing another blade in one fluid motion.

“Bloody Hell!” one brigand shouted.

The stranger’s voice called out. “Five against two women? Brave lads indeed.”

Another attacker lunged toward him. The stranger twisted aside neatly and drove his elbow into the man’s jaw before disarming him with alarming speed.

The sword spun into the mud.

At that point, Shona scrambled toward Merith, trying to hold in her sobs. But Merith was stunned. She thought a part of it was due to being frozen in fear.

The remaining brigands faltered visibly. Their prey had suddenly grown teeth.

One rushed forward with a cry. The stranger met him head-on and steel clashed again.

The rider moved unlike any man she had ever seen. He wasn’t wild or brutal, but smooth and controlled. Almost effortless. His dark auburn curls whipped across his brow as he fought, blue eyes intense with focus.

A brigand swung clumsily and the stranger ducked before striking the man across the ribs with the hilt of his blade. The attacker folded with a gasp.

Another fled outright. “Cowards!” one shouted.

“Aye,” the stranger called after him dryly. “Run faster.”

Within moments, the remaining men scattered into the hills like frightened crows. Silence rushed in behind them. Only the horses’ nervous snorting and Shona’s quiet weeping disturbed the stillness.

The stranger sat motionless atop his horse for a second before dismounting into the mud.

Merith scarcely noticed him at first. She had fallen beside Duncan’s body, trembling hands pressed against the old driver’s coat as though she might somehow call him back.

His eyes stared sightlessly toward the sky. Rainwater gathered in the folds of his sleeve.

“Duncan…” she whispered brokenly as her throat tightened.

“He cannae…” Shona’s voice shook from behind her. “My lady, he cannae hear ye now.”

Slowly, Merith bowed her head. She ought to have looked away, but she couldn’t.

When she heard the stranger approaching behind her, she gathered the courage to look up at him.

Up close, he looked younger than she first thought.

She guessed that he was in his mid-twenties.

His face was sharply carved, handsome in a roguish sort of way, with reddened cheeks and a mouth seemingly made for smirking.

A short dagger rested at his belt beside well-used leather gloves, while rain darkened the shoulders of his coat.

But it was his eyes that caught her. They were bright blue and clear as Highland rivers beneath sunlight.

He crouched beside her carefully. “Are ye hurt?”

The question sounded unexpectedly gentle. Merith lifted her gaze slowly. She couldn’t speak for what felt like a long time.

She had seen handsome men before. Young lairds, sons of neighboring clans, and polished noblemen visiting her father’s hall.

None looked like this.

There was something untamed and dangerous about him. Yet, the hand he offered her remained steady and patient.

Shona hurried forward anxiously. “My lady, ye should stand.”

Dimly, Merith realized that her knees had sunk into the mud. The stranger glanced briefly toward Duncan’s body before removing his hat quietly.

“I’m sorry fer yer loss,” he said.

They were simple words. He didn’t try to make a grand speech. Somehow that made what he was saying feel more honest.

“He served my family all his life,” Merith said, ignoring the forming lump in her throat.

The stranger gave her a slow nod. “A good man then.”

“Aye,” she replied. And her voice nearly broke.

“Did they take anythin’?” he asked, returning his piercing eyes to her.

Shona spoke up before Merith had the chance to open her mouth. “They barely had time.”

Seeming satisfied, the stranger nodded once. Without saying another word, he extended his hand out to Merith. She stared at it for a few seconds before finally placing her trembling hand in his.

Warmth surged unexpectedly through her fingers as he helped her carefully to her feet. When she swayed slightly, his hand steadied her waist.

The touch lasted no more than a moment, yet awareness rushed through her all the same.

They were too close.

She stepped back quickly and the man released her immediately.

Who was he?

As though assessing whether she might faint, the stranger observed her face. Not wanting to seem like a damsel in distress, Merith lifted her chin stubbornly.

“I am well enough,” she confirmed.

One dark auburn brow rose. “Aye?”

“Ye look ready tae collapse, my lady,” Shona said beside her, still trying to find her composure as she wiped at her wet face.

Merith ignored her and the stranger’s mouth twitched faintly, amusement threatening despite the grimness of the moment. Then he looked toward the overturned baggage.

“Seems yer journey has turned sour, lass,” he said, nodding toward the mess that had been left behind by the bandits.

For some reason, hearing him use the word lass on her sent a strange warmth curling in her stomach.

It’s absurd, she thought to herself. A man is lying dead only feet away.

Yet, standing before this stranger, Merith suddenly felt as though the world had tilted off its axis.

He studied her for another moment without saying much more. Wind stirred the damp curls at his brow and thunder rolled across the mountains far in the distance.

Though Merith could not have explained why, she felt certain that meeting this man would alter the course of her life forever.