Highland Promise: The Daughters of Clan Drummond Read online

  Highland Promise

  The Daughters of Clan Drummond

  Stephanie Marks

  Copyright © 2019 by Stephanie Marks

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-9940667-7-0

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  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.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  A Note to My Readers

  Excerpt

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Thank You For Reading

  Also by Stephanie Marks

  Acknowledgments

  To Ivy. Editor extraordinaire. Thank you for being such an amazing friend.

  For D.C.

  A Note to My Readers

  I hope that you enjoy this book. If you are interested in finding out about my latest releases, be sure to visit my website to sign up for my newsletter.

  - Stephanie

  http://www.StephanieMarksBooks.com/

  Excerpt

  Catriona screamed and dropped her box of painting supplies and the small lantern as she tore herself from his grasp. The flame from the candle went out as the lantern crashed to the ground. They were plunged into darkness. Her attacker lost his balance, and his arms flailed wildly as he tried to right himself on the edge of the top stair. In a desperate attempt to keep himself from tumbling backwards down the tall staircase, he reached out to catch himself but grasped the front of Catriona’s gown as she fled, tearing the front of her bodice almost completely down to her waist.

  She ran down the hallway, her heart pounding as if it would leap from her chest, clutching the ragged pieces of her gown together, and tested the door handle of the first bedchamber she came to. Being one of the guest chambers, it was on the first floor of private rooms, and blessedly unlocked.

  Relief flooded Catriona’s body as she ran through the door and slammed it shut behind her, before barring it quickly to ensure it would keep out her drunken attacker. With a wee bit of luck he might not have seen which door she had escaped through, and it was unlikely that in his current state he would have the fortitude to test them all just to find her.

  Shaking, she fell back against the door and tried to catch her breath while she stared down at the tattered pieces of her gown. She clutched at the ruined fabric and tried to suppress the wave of nausea that suddenly overtook her. Just because she was still a maid it did not mean that she was naïve. She knew full well the type of unspeakable misfortune that could happen to a woman when caught unawares by a man whose intentions were less than honorable. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the terrifying images in her mind of what could have been, but that only made them more vivid.

  She opened her eyes with a shuddering breath and forced herself to get ahold of her senses. She had gotten away with little more than a damaged gown and some lost paints, and there was simply no way he would be able to force himself past the barred chamber door. She took another deep breath and her heartbeat began to slow. Everything would be all right. She was safe.

  Slowly, she raised her gaze from the floor. Only then did she notice that the room was not unoccupied, as she had first believed it to be. No, there on the bed in front of her, illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the window, was a very large, very naked man.

  Prologue

  The Highlands, Scotland

  Early Spring, 1620

  The stars shone brightly in the sky over Lochaber, but that night the moon was little more than a crescent sliver. What little illumination it may have offered was almost completely obscured by wisps of errant clouds, casting the field below into shadow. The lack of moonlight was a small boon to the handful of silent highland men who slipped unseen through the night as they approached a small secluded croft. The seven men crawled on their bellies over to the edge of the low rise, careful to stay downwind from the stable full of horses below. Each man’s face was caked with a mixture of mud and soot to obscure his features, but the simple disguise did nothing to conceal the eagerness in each man’s eyes.

  “Ye each ken yer task, aye? Get those horses rounded up and into the woods.” He shivered slightly as a whip of cold air cut across the small ledge he and his men were hidden on. They could not afford to have the cool spring breeze carry their scent to the animals. This moment had been planned too carefully for them to allow a paddock full of spooked horses to be their undoing.

  The men lay together in the grass, breathing heavily in anticipation and watched the horse breeder’s home carefully for any sign of movement, but all was silent below.

  “Have ye the ropes?” His eyes focused on the stable where the horses were kept.

  “Aye, Angus” one of his companions whispered back. “We ken what we’re about. Let’s just do this and get it over with.”

  “Do ye want to be the one to have to tell him what went wrong if we dinna succeed tonight?”

  His impatient companion swallowed audibly and shook his head.

  “I did not think so. Now hold yer tongue and wait for my signal. I’ll not be forced to go back and tell him why we failed.”

  The windows in the house had been dark for hours and the cold hard ground had grown uncomfortable beneath them long ago. They had to trust that the horse breeder and his family were fast asleep. It would do them no good to tarry there any longer if they wanted to be well away from the area by sunrise.

  “Tis time,” said Angus.

  The small group of men rushed silently over the hill toward the stable, but one of their number broke away from the group and headed toward the breeder’s home.

  The renegade member slipped through the darkness, keeping himself low, focused only on his own desires. Propelled forward by a dark need that howled within him.

  A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, halting his departure.

  “Where the devil do ye think ye’re going?” hissed one of the Scotsmen.

  “To take care of the family,” the rogue group member told him, placing his hand lightly on the handle of his dirk.

  “Ye ken that is not the plan. We’re just here to steal the horses. Are ye trying to get us all hanged? Now get yer arse to the stables before the others notice we’re gone. If ye draw attention to us I’ll slit yer throat for ye, I swear it. Stick to the plan.”

  The rogue tightened his grip on the handle of his dirk, fighting the roaring urge to plunge it into his partner’s chest. He could not stand to be spoken to as though he were a fool, but he w
ould not have to put up with the man for much longer. Soon he would not have to take orders from any of them.

  Silently, he jerked his head in a sharp nod, releasing the grip on his knife, and the two men ran towards the stable to help the others steal the horses. He glanced back over his shoulder at the darkened windows of the quiet little house, knowing that soon his needs would be satisfied.

  Chapter 1

  The Highlands, Scotland

  Late Spring, 1620

  The late spring sun hung low on the distant horizon as Liam and his younger brother Iain led their small group of men down the winding road that would take them to the gates of Drummond Castle. Liam sat up straighter and shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, trying to stretch the tension out of his back without drawing the attention of his men. The trip from Invergarry Castle to the Clan Drummond lands was an easy enough journey over fairly even terrain, but he had pushed his small group of clansmen and their horses to reach the home of Laird Drummond as quickly as possible. It had been three days of hard travel from Lochaber, but they had made good time. And it was time, not comfort, that mattered most.

  With a sigh, Liam relaxed back into the saddle as his younger brother Iain drew his horse up alongside him.

  Leaning nearer to his elder brother, Iain shot a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure they would not be overheard by the other men. “Are ye sure Laird Drummond will take the time to speak with us, Liam? I hear tell the man’s become a wee bit unhinged in the past year, and that it has made him inhospitable.”

  “Aye, he’ll see us. Inhospitable or no, if the reavers that have been plaguing us are men of his clan, then the man has a duty to see justice done.”

  Iain eyed him doubtfully. “I dinna suppose ye’ve bothered to think of a delicate way to broach the subject with him have ye? I still cannot believe ye dinna send the man a letter first, asking to speak with him.”

  Liam shot his brother a dark look and Iain held a hand up in surrender.

  “I’m not saying that this plan of yours is a bit hasty, mind. But ye do have a way about ye that some people, not me of course, but some people may consider a wee bit… terse.” The corner of Iain’s mouth turned up slightly in a faint smile at his brother’s irritated glare.

  “I prefer to get to the point of the matter without a lot of frippery, aye. But not all of us were blessed with such a poetic tongue as yours, brathair. Maybe ye should put it to better use in politics, instead of seducing all the pretty lasses, if ye are so worried about Laird Drummond taking offense to me. I dinna write to Laird Drummond because I dinna want to give him a chance to say no before I could speak to the man face-to-face. The reavers are attacking us along his border. I want to know that something will be done about it, not receive a prettily worded letter which amounts to little more than kindling for my fire.” Deep lines creased Liam’s forehead as his mouth turned down in a frown. “I want the man to look me in the eye so that I can judge the truth of what he says. Inhospitable or no, Laird Drummond has a reputation of being an honest and honorable man. I’m sure that given the chance to speak with him, we can get a quick handle on all of this blasted thievery.”

  Liam tightened the grip on his horse’s reins and stared silently off into the distance, focused on the point where Drummond Castle grew larger before them as they made their approach. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. Soon this would all be behind him and he could go back to his life as it should be, without all of these infuriating distractions.

  The small group of men rode in silence until they reached Laird Drummond’s large courtyard. There was no denying that the castle made for an imposing first impression. The courtyard was flanked by two large buildings. A large plain tower house to the left of the yard and an elegant looking two-level mansion to the right.

  He snorted lightly as he eyed the large house. Laird Drummond was one of the wealthiest men in the highlands, and he certainly wasted no opportunity to show it.

  The brothers dismounted and handed the reins over to the eager young blonde-haired boy who ran over to meet them. Liam smiled down at the lad and tousled his hair, noticing the distinct streak of dirt across the bridge of the boy’s nose. The lad grinned up at him, before leading their two horses away and shouting a friendly greeting to a young man that passed him by. It did not feel so long ago that he and his two younger brothers had been just as covered in grime, laughing and carefree while their mother picked bits of straw out of their hair, caught there from when the boys had been wrestling in the stables.

  “Would it be too much of me to ask of ye to try for just a touch of pleasantries?” Iain whispered to him.

  Liam narrowed his eyes at his brother then shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be pleasant enough.”

  “I just do not want us ordered out from under his roof before I’ve had a bath and a bed to sleep in,” said Iain.

  “With a willing woman to help ye warm the both of them nae doubt.”

  Iain laughed and slapped his brother on the back.

  “Of course. Is there any other way?”

  Liam opened his mouth to respond but closed it quickly when one of the Drummond guardsmen came forward to greet them.

  “Welcome to Drummond Castle, Laird MacDonell. Laird Drummond has been expecting ye.”

  “Thank ye,” said Liam.

  Iain coughed lightly and Liam fought the urge to throttle him. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing him again,” he added.

  “If ye’d like to follow me to the great hall while yer men get settled?”

  The guard turned toward the entrance of the keep and Liam glared at his brother.

  “What?” whispered Iain. “It would not hurt ye to practice yer pleasantries before ye meet Himself, would it?”

  “I’ll murder ye in yer sleep Iain. Brother or no. I swear to ye I will,” Liam grumbled.

  He hated to admit it but his brother was right. Laird Drummond’s lands were twice the size of his own and the older man was known to enjoy flaunting his wealth. Someone like that expected a certain amount of deference shown him, even from the other clan Chiefs. If Liam wanted the man’s help then he was going to have to tread carefully so as to not offend him unduly. Though the thought of having to bow and scrape to the man just to ensure that he dinna accidentally bruise Laird Drummond’s ego set Liam’s teeth on edge.

  The Drummond guard led them into the keep and through the hallways of the tower house until they came to the large common hall on the first floor.

  “If ye did not write to the man,” Iain whispered, “then how did he know we were coming?”

  Liam did not respond but cast his gaze across the large room, up to the head table where Laird Drummond sat waiting. It was a good question, and one he would be certain to ask the man. Liam did not like the thought of the auld Laird being so privy to Liam’s movements.

  Their arrival drew the curious glances of the Drummond clansmen sitting at the long tables in the hall, but Liam ignored them, his attention focused on the large man sitting in the centre of the head table.

  “Laird MacDonell!” Laird Drummond’s voice boomed out as the Chief of Clan Drummond stood to greet them. “Welcome, welcome.”

  “A bit more hospitable than ye were expecting, then?” Liam whispered to Iain before approaching the older man.

  “Aye,” his brother whispered back, not taking his eyes off of the chief.

  Laird Drummond had been known as a great warrior in his youth. Reckless and wild, his size and strength had been a great asset to him on the battlefield. But after accumulating so much wealth over the years, and after the death of his wife, he had turned his mind to raising his three daughters and had chosen to leave the fighting to younger men. While he was still a formidable man, his great muscles had started to give way to fat. His stomach had softened and he had grown barrel chested, but it was that chest from which his words of welcome were still able to ring out clearly across the hall and reach every corner of the room. And though Laird Drummond ma
y have gotten softer from having spent so much time off the battlefield, Liam could still see the great warrior in him, and why his men would follow him into battle and even to their possible deaths.

  “Laird Drummond, thank ye for welcoming me and my men into yer fine home. May I introduce ye to my brother Iain?”

  “Iain is it?” The Laird Drummond looked the younger man over. “Ye’ve grown a bit since the last time I saw ye. Little more than a wee lad then.”

  “I remember yer visit to Invergarry Castle well, Laird Drummond,” Iain said with a graceful bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve not had a chance to see ye since. I am very pleased to see ye looking so well.”

  While his brother spouted platitudes, Liam took in the room, casting his gaze about for all possible exits. He turned at the sound of shuffling coming from the doorway behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see the four other clansmen that had come on the journey with him and his brother. They trailed behind one of Laird Drummond’s men as they were shown to empty seats at the tables, their weariness from travel clear on their drawn faces.

  “Aye Iain, yer right, it’s been much too long. You and yer brothers have my condolences on the loss of yer parents. To lose them both like that. It must have been a terrible grief to ye both.”