Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 4 Read online

  Marti Talbott’s

  Highlander Series

  Book 4

  (Bethia, Alison, Kadick and Glorie)

  By

  Marti Talbott

  © 2011 All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  BETHIA

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  ALISON

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  KADICK

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  GLORIE

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  Marti Talbott’s Highlander Series

  Book 5

  CLARE

  CHAPTER I

  More Marti Talbott Books

  BETHIA—Bethia's heart was broken. Hannish, the man she loved, chose another and to avoid seeing them together she fled to her beloved aunt in England. But when she came back two years later she found the MacGreagor home she grew up in deserted and the village burned to the ground. Now she had nowhere to go, she was injured and two Englishmen were chasing her. To her amazement, it was Hannish who came to her rescue. Scotland offered her sanctuary, but did she come back too late for love?

  ALISON—As hard as she tried not to, Alison was falling in love with Ben, a man who loved animals as much as she did. But Comine MacDuff wanted a wife and once he saw Alison, he was certain she was the one. He was also certain the MacGreagor giants would never let her go. Kidnapping her was the only answer, but finding her alone and within his reach was impossible. Then one night his luck finally changed.

  KADICK - Abandoned by her mother at birth, Kadick was different. She had a birthmark on one side of her face that some believed was a curse. Shunned by the men in the MacGreagor clan she was determined to seek a husband in England. For Laird Neil MacGreagor and several unmarried men in want of wives, going with her offered adventure. Yet in a world full of strangers who feared her, could finding acceptance and love for the delightful Kadick lead to more heartache?

  GLORIE - As a willing English bride, Glorie agreed to leave her home and go with the MacGreagors to Scotland. At first she was smitten with Moan, but Burk had other ideas. Yet love would not come easy - neither spoke the other's language. Glorie was also headstrong and had her own ideas of how things should be done. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before she managed to put her chances for marriage in danger by enraging Neil.

  BETHIA

  CHAPTER I

  As soon as Bethia crossed the border and was certain she was on MacGreagor land, her excitement started to build. After two long years of living with an aunt in England, she was leaving all those troubles behind and going home. Soon she could take a long swim in the loch, change into her MacGreagor plaid, eat a hot meal and sleep in a warm bed surrounded by people who loved her. It was her heart’s greatest desire and Bethia MacGreagor planned to savor every second of it.

  She wore a white linen chemise under her dark green gown, the floor length of which signified her station in the upper class of England. A long belt with a tassel on each end was wrapped several times around her waist and then knotted. Her white sleeves were narrow with a fashionable extra width at the wrist and her golden hair, parted down the middle with a braid on each side, was covered by a white veil, which she hoped would lead people to guess she was married. A married woman traveling alone in England was not as suspicious as an unmarried one.

  Initially she intended to stay another year in England to learn more of the language and traditions. When she discussed the idea with Neil before she left Scotland, he was all for it. In his opinion, having someone who would teach the basic English words to his warriors could save lives—should the English ever decided to attack. He did not ask why she wanted to leave so quickly and she did not offer, but she could tell by the look in his eyes he already knew.

  Then six days ago she made a decision which led to that dreadful business in the parlor, and decided she would go home. She left a quickly scrawled note for cousin, Luella, packed a minimum of belongings in a cloth sack and stole a horse—his horse.

  She would not have taken that particular horse had she another choice. The stallion was not just his horse, it was his prize breeding stallion of which he was very proud and very protective. The first time she saw the horse’s golden coat, white tail and mane, she had to admit the animal was magnificent...too magnificent for a thoughtless man like James.

  Bethia’s one regret was that taking his horse meant she could not bring Greer with her. Greer was too precious a woman to be servant to a man like James and his hoity sister. Yet bringing her to Scotland on a stolen horse meant certain death for them both if they got caught. It was a risk Bethia was not willing to take.

  Fleeing to Scotland was no guarantee James and Baron Giffart would not follow her, but she did not think they were that stupid. Men like those two always made sure the odds were in their favor and they knew the MacGreagor warriors were ferocious. Indeed, they knew it quite well, for she told them so often enough.

  The irony that she left Scotland to avoid the upset with Hannish MacGreagor and then left England to avoid a different kind of unpleasantness was not lost on her. Yet after two years, she doubted Hannish even remembered her and for now, Scotland was a lot safer than England.

  BETHIA WAS NOT CONCERNED when she saw no other living soul the first day of her travels. Except for hunters, few MacGreagors ventured that far south and for good reason—to avoid conflict with the English.

  When the sun began to set, she found a place in the forest to hide, ate the last of the bread and cheese she brought with her, wrapped up in her warm blankets and quickly fell asleep. Only once did she accidentally roll over on her back. The sudden pain woke her up, but she carefully turned her body so she could lie on her stomach again and went right back to sleep. There was something peaceful about finally sleeping in Scotland again.

  On the second day, when she was more than half way home, she began to feel something was amiss. Believing she was far enough north, she removed her veil so she could see better and tossed it away.

  The fields looked unattended, no herds of sheep or cattle grazed on the hillsides and when she came to the first cottage, no one answered her whistle. She whistled twice more and at length gave up, turned her horse and continued up the path. The birds still sang in the trees, the air smelled fresh and everything was as green as she remembered, but there was definitely something wrong.

  Neil did not like the women to ride alone and at least one man, and probably several, should have come to her by now to take her home. Yet by late afternoon, there was no one and by the time the three paths joined to become a road wide enough for carts, she feared the plague had returned and wiped out all of Scotland.r />
  Her foreboding was so severe, she halted her horse for a time just to look and listen. Her thoughts went instantly to Hannish and for the first time, she considered that he might be dead. The thought was so disturbing, she had to blink back her upset. Even now, all she had to do was close her eyes and she could still feel his strong arms around her, and remember the passion and the urgency in their kiss. If he had not been strong enough to stop, she...

  Bethia forced the memory out of her mind just as she had on a thousand other occasions. There was no point in dwelling on a love that was not meant to be. Hers were not the only arms he desired to hold. Iona loved him too and in the end, Hannish gave his heart to Iona.

  Every time Bethia remembered loving him, being in his arms and believing she would be there forever, she had to deal with the hurt of Iona saying Hannish was betrothed to her. The crushing pain of losing him was so great, she went instantly to Neil, asked permission to leave and slipped away early the next morning. Losing Hannish was one thing, having to watch him love and marry Iona was something she could not endure.

  Once in England she went through the motions of living. She got up every morning, spent the day with her studies, and learned their strange courtship customs in the evenings. If anything could distract her, the oddity of relationships between men and women in that country could.

  Yet her heart and her dreams were always with Hannish. For a time she thought he might come after her, but he did not and finally, she was forced to accept the truth—he did not love her. Occasionally she thought she would simply fade into the night and not wake up the next morning. She always woke up and in a few months, she managed to smile more and enjoy life a little more. Yet never did a day pass without his name on her lips.

  GUARDEDLY, BETHIA URGED her horse forward. At a leisurely gait, the mount took her past still more empty cottages, a shovel carelessly left beside the road, and weeds that were beginning to grow over paths that had been trodden down for years. Nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.

  The horse kept walking toward it, but at the sight of the charred remains of her home, her mind went numb. In the distance, it was little more than a blackened smite on the land. As the stallion took her closer, a full account of the damage became evident. The wall was still there, but most of it was blackened on the outside as well as the inside. Where the bridge fell, the water of the moat was partially blocked and forced to overflow its banks until it found a way around and could cascade into the other side.

  Through the hole in the wall where the drawbridge once stood, she could see that the stables and all the cottages were burned to the ground. The garden was gone and so were the trees she loved so much. The Keep was little more than a burned out hulk, most of the front wall had crumbled and lay atop the landing and steps. Inside, the furniture, doors and the stairs were nonexistent.

  Bethia halted her horse, lowered her head and openly wept. Gone...they were all gone...her home, her MacGreagor family and her Hannish.

  She cried until she had no more tears and then got down off her horse. In stark contrast, the meadow outside the village was heavy laden with wildflowers and lush green grass. It occurred to her that someone must have buried all the bodies, and she should at least say a prayer over them. So she led her horse across the meadow and tied his reins to a tree on the edge so he could graze. Then she took the path through the trees and walked into the clearing where Neil built the small fence around the graveyard when he was yet a boy. The plague three years earlier added nearly half the clan, but to her surprise, it looked the same as it did when she left.

  Bethia walked to the place where Kevin and Anna were buried. If Neil and Glenna were dead, surely...but there were only a few new graves and none in the place left vacant for the clan’s most recent laird and his wife. She was suddenly hopeful, but then she supposed the fire left nothing to bury...or perhaps no one remained to do the burying.

  She found a log, sat down, said her prayer for the dead and then blankly stared at the ground. Now what? She had no place to go, very little food left and only a small dagger strapped to her leg for protection. It was not exactly the kind of weapon she could hunt with, although she was pretty good at hitting her mark when she threw it. She could dig for roots, she supposed, and maybe the apple tree was still there. She stood up and looked back toward the loch.

  CHAPTER II

  SHE COULD AT LEAST have that bath in the loch she coveted and it would be good for her sore back. After that, she would change into her MacGreagor plaid. If she were the last one alive, she could at least wear the clan’s colors with honor. Bethia went back to her horse, led him across the meadow and the road, and then down the path toward the loch.

  She thought she had no more tears, but as she approached the loch, she could almost hear the laughter of the now dead children and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  The loch looked just the same. The water reflected the blue sky Hannish once said was the same color as her eyes. With her hand, she lovingly touched the large rock they often sat on just to talk. She especially remembered laughing with him when they discussed how many of the men had disobeyed and watched the women bath. He swore none of them had, but she didn’t believe him. Of course, a MacGreagor man would never be stupid enough to admit it, particularly to the woman he loved...or said he loved.

  Her smile quickly faded. That was the last time she saw him and it still seemed impossible he would kiss her like that and then choose to marry someone else. She forced the memory from her mind and concentrated on taking that bath. After carefully scanning the edge of the forest all around the loch for danger, she took her horse into the trees, tied him to a branch, pulled her shirt and plaid out of her sack and started back toward the water.

  Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, another arm went around her waist and bound both her arms, her feet were off the ground and a large man was hauling her into the woods. The pain to her injured back was sharp and she tried to scream, but his hold was too tight and she could not draw enough breath. She had only just thought of kicking him when he put his mouth next to her ear.

  “I will not hurt you, be still.” He stopped behind a large tree and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. Yet he kept his hand tightly over her mouth and her back solid against him. Then he bent them both forward so he could peek around the tree.

  The pain when he bent her was excruciating, she was terrified and imagined the worst was about to happen. At least he spoke Gaelic and there was some measure of comfort in that, but he could be from any clan and he was hurting her. The only thing she could think of to do was relax hoping he would do the same and give her a chance to reach for her dagger. Finally, he stopped leaning around the tree, stood up straight and eased some of the pain in her back.

  With his mouth still close to her ear he whispered, “There are two Englishmen following you, Bethia.”

  She tried to turn to see who it was, but he would not let her. Even so, only a MacGreagor would know her name and if she trusted any man, it was a MacGreagor. She completely relaxed in his arms.

  He could feel her release the tension in her muscles, but he could also feel her trembling and was concerned her fear might make her cry out. Slowly, he loosened his grip on her mouth and once assured she would keep quiet, he moved his hand away. “Come.”

  In one swift movement, he let go of her, untied her horse and swung up into the stiff English saddle. Then he held out his arm, pulled her up behind him and quickly headed the horse through the trees.

  It all happened so fast, she did not look to see who he was. Instead, her eyes were drawn to his colors. He wore a green kilt she had never seen before and not the MacGreagor blue, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. As soon as the horse started to move, she tucked her MacGreagor clothing between herself and the saddle, wrapped her arms around his waist and hung on tight.

  HANNISH MACGREAGOR had been following the two Englishmen for quite some time. Never
before had he known the English to come so far north, but it was not until he saw the woman lead her horse to the loch that he became more than curious. She too wore the clothing of the English.

  A million times he dreamed of seeing Bethia again and he could hardly believe it. He would have rescued any woman to keep her out of the hands of the English, but when she pulled a MacGreagor plaid out of her sack and turned toward him, he got a good look at her face and recognized her.

  Now his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. She had her arms around him, her cheek was against his back and if he could have, he would have stayed in the moment for the rest of his life.

  This time he would not let her go no matter what. He would not trust her, but he would not let her go. He understood her choosing a wealthy Englishman over the ordinary life he could offer her, but he did not understand her leaving without a word. It took a long time to forgive her for that...if indeed he had forgiven her. What he simply could not do was forget her. For two years, he woke up thinking about her and went to sleep yearning to hold her again.

  FEW KNEW THESE WOODS as well as Hannish. First, he guided the horse through the forest south of the loch, stopped and quickly turned the horse around to see if they were being followed. Assured they were not, he turned back and kept going farther south. Then he urged the horse across the road. Yet instead of taking any of the paths, he went back into the forest. At length he came to a cottage well away from the loch and well hidden in the trees.

  When he finally halted the horse, he did not move. He noticed her trembling had turned to outright shaking, so he covered her hands with his, hoping to calm her down. Then he closed his eyes to feel her touch just a little while longer. She left to marry another man and Hannish had no right to expect her to be in his arms again, but that was what he wanted more than anything else life had to offer. She was back and something must have happened. Perhaps her husband died or maybe even set her aside. He felt guilty for hoping so, but all those months of missing her and trying to force himself to take another wife, threatened to push him over the edge of sanity.