Highland Moonlight Read online

  Highland Moonlight

  Scotland1328

  What people are saying about Teresa Reasor…

  “Love is no match for warring Scottish clans until gutsy Mary Mac Lachlan makes her stand. Teresa Reasor's debut will keep you reading!” ~ Award-winning author Joanne Rock

  He kept his tone soft.

  “Why did you offer me the bairn, Mary? I know you do not wish to be parted from him.”

  “‘Tis better for him to be accepted into your clan than mine. He’ll have the safety of a father to care for him, rather than a grandsire who will use him or abuse him.”

  “You know Collin well,” he said.

  “Aye.” The huskiness of her tone tinted the word with pain.

  Though she kept her head bent, he glimpsed her tear stained cheeks and red nose. He eased closer, driven by a need to comfort her.

  She fell silent for a moment then raised her gaze to the stone structure behind him. “He will be a Campbell and he will never have to know what ‘tis to have a foot in two clans, and never truly belong to either. He’ll know what ‘tis to owe his loyalty to only one and be accepted without question.”

  Something in her expression brought a tightness to Alexander’s chest. “I do not wish to raise my son or daughter alone. A bairn needs its mother.”

  She remained silent.

  Grasping her chin with his fingertips, he turned up her face. “Will you allow your hate for me to deprive our child of your care and affection, as you were deprived of your mother’s?”

  Her blue gaze traced his features with a pain that weighted the pit of his stomach with stones of guilt. “I did not wish to hate you, Alexander. I wanted very much to care for you because you were to be my husband.”

  The knowledge that she had meant to accept him, struck him with the force of a battle-ax and he drew a deep breath.

  She raised her chin. “‘Twas a lifetime ago when I was innocent enough to trust you. ‘Twill not happen again.”

  Highland Moonlight

  by

  Teresa Reasor

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

  Highland Moonlight

  COPYRIGHT Ó 2007 by Teresa J. Reasor

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tamra Westberry

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 706

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First English Tea Rose Edition, March 2007

  Print ISBN 1-60154-050-7

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my mother, who has unconditional faith in me in all my endeavors.

  Scotland 1328

  Highland Moonlight

  Chapter One

  At the unexpected sound of booted steps in the narrow passageway, Mary concealed herself in the rock wall’s craggy surface. The smell of peat smoke hung acrid and strong in the confined space. With every breath, she tasted it. Water trickled like perpetual rain from deep within the hillside. She hoped its movement would cover the uneven sound of her breathing.

  “Mary?” The sound of her name echoed through the cave.

  She recognized her father’s voice and the thick white hair that brushed his shoulders. Another man accompanied him, his face indiscernible in the dim light.

  Bracing the weight of the crossbow against her hip, her fingers found the trigger. She stepped from the shadows, careful to keep the fire between herself and the men. “‘Tis here I am, Father.”

  Both turned at the sound of her voice. Recognition sent a tremor of shock racing through her, and she stumbled back, swallowing a gasp. With a practiced jerk, she leveled the crossbow at the larger of the two.

  Her father threw out a hand stilling the man’s stride toward her. “Loose the arrow, Mary, and you will have murdered an unarmed man,” Collin said.

  What purpose could he have in bringing Alexander to this place?

  Almost as though he heard the thought, Collin said, “He has come to set things aright, lass.”

  She shook her head, amazed how obtuse her father could be. “Surely you know that can not be done.”

  “Aye, it can if you will allow it, Mary,” Alexander said, his deep voice echoing through the chamber.

  Those few words flayed her soul with promises that could not be. Her throat grew tight and thick with instant tears. She blinked quickly to clear her vision.

  “You can not stay here alone much longer, lass,” Collin said.

  “Not now you have seen fit to bring the likes of him about.” Her brittle tone was rewarded by the fierce scowls of both men.

  “I have signed the betrothal contract with Alexander. I have given my oath. You will marry him.”

  Overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, she fell silent. If he were any kind of father, he would not ask this of her. A panicked feeling of being cornered raced through her. Her eyes searched the passageway behind them. The bow dipped as she stepped closer to the dark opening at her left.

  When no threat appeared, her gaze settled on the man responsible for her plight. Heavy brows, the same dark chestnut as his hair, came together in a fierce frown over a straight well-shaped nose. Thick auburn lashes surrounded his pale amber eyes, their tawny wolfish hue startling and unusual. The generous curve of his bottom lip promised both humor and passion. A heavy beard colored his lean jaw a rusty hue, underlining the strong masculinity of his features.

  A fresh wave of pain assaulted her just from looking at him. “You can not expect me to abide by the contract now.”

  “You are with child, Mary. He wants to be a father to the bairn.”

  A short bark of bitter laughter broke from her. “Aye, he would.” She drew a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders though she trembled with a combination of reaction and cold. “I will not be his wife.”

  “I signed the contract. You must honor it.”

  “Nay! The contract be damned!”

  Collin’s jaw tensed, his brows puckered in a severe frown. “The marriage has been arranged to prevent a feud, Daughter.”

  “A feud of your making not mine. ‘Twas you who started it, should be you who ends it.”

  “You will be shamed by bearing a child out of wedlock, Mary.”

  Alexander’s deep, quiet voice scraped at the wound already raw.

  “Do not talk to me of shame! ‘Twas you and your deceit that has caused this!” She hated the defensive guilt that tormented her. How had she ever thought he cared for her? How could she have trusted him with all she had to offer? She shuddered, causing the bolt in the crossbow to jiggle.

  “The child is mine, Mary. You can not deny me my rights as its sire.” His jaw set, his dark auburn brows meshed into a fierce frown. The masculine planes of his face held an undeniable strength and determination, on other occasions, she had found almost beautiful. Now the sight of him inspired such feelings of anger and pain she found it hard to stand her ground.

  Emotion held her silent a moment, her heart crying out against the events that had brought her to this impasse. Her chin rose in open defiance of him and his claims. “You are not my husband. You have no rights.”

  Alexander’s lips thinned, drawing her attention to them for a moment. Gentle memories brought fresh pain in their wake. He had tasted of cinnamon and smelled of leather and wood smoke and man. She quashed the thoughts before they could go any further.

  Her attention shifted to her father, her distrust a living breathing thing within her. A Campbell bastard beneath her father’s roof would be used against her, or for his own purposes. She had known that from the first. She would not see her child abused by him.

  No matter how he had failed her, Alexander would not fail to protect the child. Tears clogged her throat and for a moment pain threatened to overwhelm her resolve. Her voice sounded hoarse. “You may have the bairn in recompense for the contract.”

  “You can not be serious, Mary!” Collin stared at her, his features blank with shock.

  “Aye, I am serious, Father.” Her face felt stiff with the effort to retain her composure when it felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest. “If a father he wants to be, then I will let him be one.” She stepped closer to the fire. “Let us see if he is as good a one as you have been these many years past.” The enmity she felt for both of them lay like a stone in the pit of her stomach. “You have both received what you came for, now leave.”

  “We can not do that, Mary,” Alexander said. “You can not remain here. ‘Tis not good for you, or the bairn.”

  She had given him her love, had shared her body without reservation, and he had proven how little she had meant to him. How could he play the concerned lover now? “I have survived worse things.”

  Alexander’s lean jaw clenched. The scar along his cheekbone grew white in the firelight.

  “Do not pretend to be concerned for my well-being or the bairn’s. I have learned well the ways of men since that night. Your only interest is yourself, and
what you can gain from this. Just as it is his.” She nodded toward her father.

  Collin’s jaw moved as though he gritted his teeth his features set in a grimace of fierce displeasure. “You will come home with me.”

  She ignored his attempt to intimidate her into submission. Even in this he had not acted as a father, but the Chief of his clan. And once again, she felt used and betrayed, just as she had that night. “I will not go with a man so willing to hand me over to the likes of him.” She used the bow to point in Alexander’s direction. “I shall go to the abbey and reside with the nuns until the bairn is born. Afterwards, I will send the babe to Castle Lorne.”

  She fastened her attention on her father. “You will leave me out of any future plans you may have, Collin. From this day forward, I will owe you as much loyalty as you have offered me in this matter, or any other.” She swallowed against the tears threatening to overwhelm her. “Go now. I have had enough of the both of you to last a lifetime.” Backing away, she slipped into the chamber at the back of the cave. From the safety of the shadows, she turned to watch the two men.

  ****

  Collin grasped Alexander’s arm when he strode forward to follow her. “She will kill you if she thinks you intend to touch her,” he warned. “She will do as she has said. You shall have the child.”

  Alexander had expected her resistance, but he had not expected Collin to yield so easily to her wishes. He rubbed absently at the stubble along his jaw, wondering how the MacLachlan chief hoped to use this to his advantage.

  “She will not accept you, Alexander.” Collin’s features were taut as he knelt to feed dried peat and small branches to the fire to build up the meager blaze.

  “You’re her father. She has to obey you.”

  The man’s blue eyes, just a few shades darker than his daughter’s, settled on him. “The church will not recognize a marriage where the bride is forced to speak the vows agin her will.” He raked his fingers through his thick mane of white hair, his movements angry and impatient.

  “Mayhap you should plead the bairn’s case, instead of mine,” Alexander suggested. “I have no wish to separate the babe from her.”

  “What would you have me say?”

  He studied the older man. He was amazed by Collin’s ineptitude. “The bairn needs a mother. If we wed, she will not have to be separated from it and the bairn will have my name to protect him from the slander of being called a bastard. She will not wish that for him.”

  Collin eyed him gravely. “She will not agree to anything that gives you the right to lay hands on her again.”

  Alexander fell silent a moment. His attention turned to the impenetrable darkness of the cavern beyond. She had made that plain enough.

  “‘Tis a fact your entire clan can do little but take, and take, and forever lust for more- more power, more land, and now more of what you had. You had not the patience to wait before. There’s no reason why she should believe you will now.”

  The older man spoke a truth with which he had to agree. There had been a brief moment when he could have stopped, might have even done so. With one taste of her response, the die had been caste. He had done what he had believed was best, hadn’t he? He had asked himself that question a hundred times and still could not find the answer. Now she carried his child. She hated him for it, that was plain enough. Perhaps she hated the child as well, and was eager to be rid of it.

  He spoke the words he thought might persuade her to accept him. “I will give my word, I will not touch her again until she gives me leave to do so.”

  Collin grinned with obvious amusement. “You will be in for a long wait, lad, if she agrees.”

  Alexander ignored the other man’s attempts to bait him. “That should please you, MacLachlan, and give her time to exact no small revenge as well. Mayhap you should suggest that to her.” He turned and stalked from the cave.

  ****

  Collin squatted near the fire.

  Mary watched him from her position just beyond the entrance to the chamber. His mane of hair appeared more white than blond. In the flickering firelight his pale brows shadowed his deep-set blue eyes. She sought and found no similarities in his features to her own. She was her mother’s daughter in all, but coloring.

  “He is gone, Mary. You have nothing to fear, lass.”

  Slowly she came forward, checking the darkened areas for movement. She squatted on the opposite side of the fire, careful to keep her distance from him. The skirt of her gown, streaked with moisture from the rocks of the cavern, hung in cloying folds against her legs. She felt chilled and drew her tartan cloak more closely around her, but did not set aside the crossbow.

  “You look ill, lass.”

  She felt ill. Her strength ebbed and flowed upon its own tide as much as the sickness that came to her in unexpected moments. “Your concern is touching, Father.”

  Collin’s jaw tensed at her tone.

  She brushed back a stray curl from her forehead. “You are truly a fool if you believe anything he says.”

  “He is a Campbell. If he offers a pledge he will keep it.”

  Rage rose up to take her breath and for a moment she could not speak. “Nay! I shan’t agree to anything that will bind me to him.”

  “The bairn will bind you to him, Mary. You’ll have to make your peace with him, for the child’s sake.”

  “I shall never have to see him again after this day.”

  “You can not truly mean to give up your child,” he argued, his tone laced with amazement.

  “It did not seem to trouble you over much to give up yours,” she taunted.

  Collin sighed and lowered his eyes to the fire. “We but followed custom, lass.”

  “Aye, a custom that denies a child its mother, and makes it easier for a father to think of it as a pawn upon the political chessboard of this shire.” She drew a deep breath, suddenly so tired she longed to lie down on the hard ground and rest. She forced herself to her feet instead. “Go home, Collin and forget you ever had a daughter named Mary. I will no longer be a party to your plans.”

  He rose, his features harsh with control. “My only plan now, Daughter, is to protect you from further harm.”

  She stifled a sound of disbelief. “As you did when you had me beaten?”

  “You brought it upon yourself by welcoming him into your bed. ‘Twould have been within my rights to do worse.”

  It had taken weeks for her back to heal and every breath she had drawn had been torture. Fever had brought her close to death more than once. For a moment, she thought how easy it would be to loose the bolt in the crossbow. Collin must have read something in her expression for the muscles of his face tightened and he froze.

  “Neither of you shall ever lay hands upon me again.”

  “‘Tis dangerous to be threatening to kill a man.” Though his blue eyes grew cold and flat, a tick twitched in his cheek.

  “‘Tis no threat.” She kept her gaze steady on his face. For once she knew what it was to be the one in power and though she knew it wouldn’t last, she embraced the headiness of it and the strength it gave her.

  He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his movements careful. “I shall warn him, but ‘twill do no more good than talking to you has done.”

  “What did you expect?”

  His features took on a stern look. “You were not raised to be so hard-hearted daughter.”

  She ignored his attempt at reestablishing himself as the father he had never been. “You did not raise me. You do not even know me.” She shook her head. “I am only a piece of goods with which to barter and form your alliances. Did you think me too ignorant to realize it? If you had looked upon me as more, you would have looked more closely at the man to which you promised me. Instead you saw only the name and the purpose of the deed.” Her eyes stung. “I am nothing to you, just as I am nothing to him. ‘Twould be a service to me if you would both think no more of me and let me live in peace.”

  “Giving up your child will not bring you peace.”

  “You are probably right, but in doing it, I will be free of him, and any debt I might owe you for siring me.” The need to weep grew like a tide inside her. She raised her chin instead. “I am not a fool. You are not here to defend a daughter’s honor, but to see your plans do not go awry.”