Heart of a Highlander_Scottish Historical Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Heart of a Highlander

  A Laird to Love

  Tammy Andresen

  Copyright © 2018 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Keep in touch!

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  A Scot’s Surrender

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Other Titles by Tammy

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  Prologue

  Lowlands of Scotland 1836

  Colin Campbell stood just outside his father’s darkened room. At five years old, he’d learned the difference between real sickness and one of his father’s fits, as his mother liked to call them. His brother, Shamus, who was seven, stood next to him.

  “He’s sad again,” Shamus whispered.

  “I ken,” Colin hissed back, tired of his brother thinking he knew everything because he was two years older.

  “It’s because of me ma,” Shamus looked down to the floor as he said it.

  Colin nodded, his anger melting away. No one discussed it outside the house, but everyone inside the house knew. Shamus’s mother had died during childbirth. Colin’s mother was from the village. Not that she was just a farm girl. She had family in the Highlands that owned land, but her father had made his living on the sea. She’d been hired to care for Shamus and had quickly become the lady of the house. But after seven years, the elder Campbell still grieved the loss of his first wife. It was the worst near Shamus’s birthday. “I wonder what she looked like,” Colin pondered aloud. There were no pictures of her anywhere in the estate. Colin assumed they made his father too sad.

  “Like me, of course.” Shamus’ face was set into hard lines. Colin wanted to argue that Shamus looked exactly like their father but he had learned not to touch such subjects. Most of the time, his father was a man to be admired. Strong and handsome, even the Earl of Ravenscraig would seek his counsel. But during these fits, his father slipped away leaving nothing but a shell.

  “Colin,” his father called from the bed. “Come here, lad.”

  With heavy feet, Colin moved into the room. He hated that his father wanted to talk with him during these times. The conversation was always the same and he had no idea what to say.

  “Son.” His father called him over to the bed

  “Yes, Da,” he replied in a quiet voice. It was required of him to be polite, attentive.

  Waving his hand, his father called him closer. “I want to talk wit’ ye.”

  “All right.” His feet slowed even more, dread weighing him down.

  His father lifted his head and shifted to a sitting position. “Come closer.”

  Hope rose in Colin’s chest and he quickened his pace. His father was sitting. He never sat up during these talks. Perhaps this time would be different.

  “Don’t make the same mistake I made, Colin.” His father’s voice was raspy from lack of use. Colin’s hopes fell. This was how it always started.

  “All right, Da.” He’d say anything to make sure this conversation ended as quickly as possible.

  Colin was close to his father now and the older man pulled his son in for a hug. “If ye marry, don’t get swept away by love and passion. It will break yer heart, Colin. Marry a woman like yer mother the first time. Strong, capable, and able to bear ye children. I made a mistake marryin’ Elswith. That mistake, it took her life.”

  “Yes, Da.” Colin was retreating again, his breath heaving from his chest. He didn’t want to hear these words. He could sense just under the surface that his mother was less in his father’s eyes even as his father vouched that she was the better choice. Even at his age, Colin could understand. His father had married for love the first time and it had broken his heart. Had it really taken Elswith’s life?

  It didn’t sit right, what his father had said. He wanted to go run by the loch, forget the words, and forget the feelings.

  Jumping on the back of his pony, he rode bareback, not wanting to bother with a saddle. It took too long and without one, he felt truly free. He wasn’t supposed to go this far without a chaperone, but then again no one seemed to notice what he did when his father had taken to bed.

  Skirting around the ridge on the south side, he came up to edge of the water, where the land was open and gently sloped down into the loch. As soon as the view widened, he saw the Earl of Ravenscraig, Haggis McDougal, sitting on the water’s edge with his eldest two daughters, Fiona and Emilia; the third girl, Ainsley, was just an infant and likely still at home.

  He didn’t pay too much attention to Emilia as a general rule. She was still too young in his eyes and a quiet little one at that. But Fiona, with her shock of red hair and her willingness to do whatever the boys did, she had become his best friend. Though her love of teasing occasionally made them enemies. But that was fun in its own way and so Colin frequently sought her out. Whatever mood she was in, it was always interesting.

  She skipped toward him now, eyeing his pony. “I can ride bareback too, ye ken.”

  “Not as good as me,” he called back, his worries already falling away at the thought of a game. Fiona did that. Distracted him from the sadness.

  “Better,” she grinned back, her hair flouncing behind her, glinting in the sun. Colin didn’t give most lasses a second thought but Fiona was different. She was his friend. Maybe it was because of that fact that he wanted to touch that flaming red hair, to see what it felt like.

  He swung down from the pony, landing on the opposite side from the water so the animal blocked him from the earl’s sight. Fiona joined him and he handed her the reins. “My da is sad again.”

  Fiona, who had been about to swing on the pony’s back, stopped, her eyes sympathetic as she turned to him. “That’s too bad.”

  “Fiona,” he started. “Can I touch yer hair?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. But I don’t ken why ye’d want to.”

  “I like the color. It’s like a warm fire,” he whispered as he held the end of the braid in his hand, silky to the touch and making him feel warm inside. “I think it would cheer anyone who was sad.”

  She gave him a smile. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said
about my hair.”

  “Do ye think love is bad?” he asked, not caring that the two thoughts likely didn’t make sense to Fiona. But he couldn’t hold the question in any longer.

  She shrugged. “Why would it be? My da tells my mum he loves her every day.”

  He nodded, feeling relieved. Maybe his father was wrong. Maybe it was just the sadness. People could love and not be hurt. But what if his father was right?

  “Fiona, what are ye doin’ back there? No ridin’ that pony now, ye’ll wrinkle yer dress,” the earl called from the shore.

  Colin peeked around to see Emilia sitting dutifully next to him.

  Fiona swung up onto the pony and gave him a wicked smile. “Count how long it takes me to get to the ridge, and do it right. No cheating.” Then she kicked the pony and off she went. He stopped thinking about his da or love. Counting, he watched Fiona’s flaming red hair fly in the wind.

  Chapter 1

  Lady Fiona McDougal sat in the carriage with her hands clenched in fists. Outside, the beautiful Scottish scenery rolled by fresh with the dew of spring, but it wasn’t the same peeking at it through a small wood-framed window. She should be out there, wind in her hair, horse underneath her as she took in the splendor that was her home.

  But her father had insisted she be more ladylike on this trip. More to the point, he wanted her to act like a lady so that she might marry a respectable Scotsman. They were travelling to a summit of lairds, many of them with eligible sons. She’d known most of these men her entire life, and she knew she didn’t want any of them.

  It made her furious just thinking about it.

  Her father told her over and over, “Ye’re inheriting a title. How can ye not find a husband?” As though it was some flaw of hers that was the issue.

  He’d even brought suitors back to Ravenscraig, but she’d rejected each one. The truth was she just hadn’t wanted any of them. And while her father talked of titles, duty, and responsibility, her heart called for love and passion. The kind that ran wild and free.

  She’d only ever wanted one man with such absolute abandon. Colin Campbell.

  Well not now, of course. Now she didn’t want him at all. In fact, now she never wanted to see him as long as she lived. Because he was an arse. No, more like a wolf. No, wolves were too regal. He was a hog without regard to others’ feelings or wants. He was just merrily wallowing in mud.

  He was also her oldest and best friend. They had played as children, teased and competed. But somewhere along the way her feelings had changed. The old excitement was there, of course. The thrill of racing horses or swimming across the loch, but a new energy had infused their relationship. It was a longing that had filled her. An ache to be with him, to touch him.

  She didn’t know when her own emotions had shifted but she knew exactly when everything changed between them. It was the night they’d been alone in the barn. Heat flushed her cheeks as she remembered what had happened.

  He knew she went out for night rides. Her father had a suitor there at the house, the Earl of Dumfries. She’d wanted to escape her family, the social responsibilities. Not that Dumfries had been pursuing her. In fact, he was actively pursuing her cousin.

  She tried to explain all this to Colin but he seemed determined to be angry. It was so unlike him, that it perplexed her to no end. When he’d arrived in the barn, she could tell something was different. He’d seemed irritated, heated. “Where’s yer beau? Why isn’t he riding with ye?”

  She’d huffed at him then. “What’s the matter with ye? Only my father thinks he’s my beau.”

  “Yer saying he isn’t courtin’ ye?” Colin was steadily moving closer.

  “I suppose he is. But Ewan really wants—”

  Colin interrupted her. “It’s Ewan now, is it?”

  “He wants Clarissa, Colin. He’s as smitten as a man can be.” She rolled her eyes then as he’d come to stand directly in front of her.

  “So yer not marryin’ him? Because love and marriage often have little to do with one another.”

  What was he taking about? But she forgot to ask as his hand reached up to touch her braid. As he stood in front of her in the dim light of the barn, he’d made her feel soft inside as he lightly caressed her hair. He’d filled her with a yearning she didn’t understand but experienced more and more often in his presence. Alone in the near dark, she wanted to touch him too. She’d wanted that a great deal lately, and it was getting harder to resist.

  She was jarred back to the present when the carriage hit a bump and she was near thrown off the seat. She let out a curse, tired of being trapped. She banged against the door to vent her frustration. Her father rapped back. “Behave, Fiona. Ye’ve run out of chances.”

  Her teeth gritted. It was Colin’s fault her father was so angry.

  Because she’d stopped holding back. And there, in the barn, she’d reached out and placed her hand on his chest. Heat had spread through her hand, down her arm, and to the juncture of her legs. “Ye shouldn’t be here,” she’d whispered.

  “Why not?” He’d stepped closer then, his other hand coming to her waist. “We’ve been riding like this since we were wee bairns.”

  A gasp escaped her lips as she turned her face to his. “It’s different.”

  But he hadn’t answered. Because his lips dropped to press lightly against hers. She’d never kissed a man before and she melted into him. It was delicious.

  “We’ll be there inside of an hour,” her father called, bringing her back to the present. “Use yer time to make yerself presentable.”

  “I’m presentable already,” she gritted out. “All I’ve done is sit in this carriage.”

  The carriage rumbled to a stop as he swung open the door, still on the back of his horse and assessed her from top to bottom. Grunting, he gave her a long look. “You’ll find a husband this trip Fiona or I’ll choose for ye.” Then he slammed it shut again.

  Fiona rarely cried, but tears pricked at her eyes, the memories flooding her mind again. They’d barely spoken as their bodies had locked together. The kiss had deepened and lengthened until they found themselves in a stall, horizontal in the hay.

  Time had fallen away as they’d held each other.

  When he’d touched her in the most intimate place, she’d known. Colin was the only man for her.

  In the morning, he’d promised to return that night. To speak with her father together. She’d known he would ask for her hand. Why wouldn’t he?

  But things had started to go wrong the moment he left. After their night in the barn, the family had realized her absence. That was when her father had demanded she find a husband before anyone else discovered she’d been missing for an entire night. She’d nearly told him there was nothing to be concerned about, that she’d been with Colin and he’d proposed. But she’d kept it to herself. Her father would be furious with her new husband, and while he’d be suspicious when Colin offered, it would be better if her father didn’t know for certain.

  By nightfall, she began to worry. Why hadn’t he come? When Colin didn’t come the next day, she knew something must be wrong. She’d considered going to find out but her father was absolutely furious and she didn’t dare break another rule. So she’d sent her sister, Ainsley, instead. Just to make sure he wasn’t hurt or ill. Ainsley had no idea why she’d been sent. But when she came back, she’d declared that Colin had taken a trip to the Highlands to visit family.

  Why hadn’t he come? And why would he leave without telling her?

  That was when her heart had broken. She’d never forgive him for this. Never.

  He had been her friend for as long as she could remember. How could he do this to her? Hurt her like this?

  The carriage rumbled on before finally coming to a rest. She shook her head to clear the memories and the pain that came with them. They must have arrived at Laird Stewart’s home. Not that she could see enough to tell. But he was hosting this summit of landowners in the area so she was sure they must have a
rrived.

  Her nerves jangled as she craned her neck to see who was outside. Part of her knew she was being selfish. They’d come to discuss their home. Scotland was changing. Scots were leaving of their own volition to go to Canada or America. While Scotland was growing industry and trade, it wasn’t supporting its people and so they were immigrating in search of better lives. At least, that is what her father thought and she agreed. But she couldn’t think of that now.

  Because her father had brought her here to find her a husband. Fiona sighed. She only hoped Shamus was in attendance with Laird Campbell rather than Colin. After what had happened, she never wanted to see him again.

  Her father snapped open the door, but it was like a different man that greeted her this time. All smiles and warmth, he reached for her hand. Fiona knew he was putting on a show for whoever was outside the carriage. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for being angry. She hadn’t been the easiest child. But she’d find her way if he just allowed it to happen rather than pushing so hard.

  She stepped from the buggy. Her eyes sweeping the house, lands, and people who stood to greet them. Not for the first time, she wished Emilia or Ainsley were here with her. They’d soothe her father, and help Fiona figure out what to do in the face of so many would-be suitors.

  The eyes of Laird Stewart and his two sons landed upon her the moment she stepped from the carriage. She’d been called a Scot beauty before. While her nose was spattered with freckles, her eyes were a nice shade of green. She’d always thought so, anyway. And her hair was a flaming color of red; while it was not her favorite, Colin had long told her it was warm and inviting. Thoughts of him immediately made her heart skip a beat but she ignored it, determined to forget Colin or, at the very least, remain angry at him.