Heart of the Highlander Read online

  Devastated to learn the betrothal to her beloved Rorie has been broken, Muren Grey vows to take control of her life once and for all. But independence is not an easy path in a world dominated by men. Can she love a man who wants to control her? Muren must gather her strength and find the essence of who she truly is—even if it means losing the only man she will ever love.

  Rorie Mackenzie has inherited a clan he will do anything to protect. Drawn into the king’s schemes involving Muren, diplomacy will only take him so far before he must make a stand, for her and for the Highlands.

  Facing impossible odds from their world and beyond, Muren and Rorie seek the one power that can obliterate any barrier.

  HEART OF THE HIGHLANDER

  The Highland Chiefs Series, book five

  Kate Robbins

  Published by Tirgearr Publishing

  Author Copyright 2017 Kate Robbins

  Cover Art: Amanda Stephanie and The Killion Group

  Editor: Christine McPherson

  Proofreader: Sharon Pickrel

  MacKenzie Clan Crest brooch depicted on this cover is used with the kind permission of Gaelic Themes Ltd. Special thanks to Licensed to Kilt.

  Photograph by Vanessa Noseworthy.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please log into the publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  DEDICATION

  To Barb; a real life heroine writing her own happy ending. You’re an inspiration to us all.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank-you to my many beta readers (Tina, Vanessa, Kellie, April) on this book who, as always, steer me in the right direction. Thank you to my crew, Melanie, Vicki, and Libby, who tolerated me during my moment of creative crisis while writing this book. You’ll know the moment when you get to it.

  Thank you to my amazing editor, Christine, who helps ensure the continuity of this story and makes it fit to read. Thank you to my publisher, Tirgearr, who is always available to respond to my many questions and needs.

  Thank you to Ian for you unwavering support and friendship, and to Joe and Allison for the writing space. Worth a million turkey dinners.

  Thank you to my street team who support me no matter what. I love you all and am so grateful for your feedback!

  Thank you to my readers. I thoroughly enjoy your emails and messages and hope you enjoy Heart of the Highlander. It’s the darkest of the series by far and was difficult to write in places, but the story needed to be told nonetheless.

  Mostly, thank you to my amazing sons who put up with a lot from their mudder in order for me to pursue this crazy craft. You are the reason I work hard every day. I love you both with all my heart—all except the bit that’s left for Fergus.

  HEART OF THE HIGHLANDER

  The Highland Chiefs Series, book five

  Kate Robbins

  Chapter One

  Dunrobin Castle, Scotland 1435

  Toes curling over the outer window-ledge, Muren Grey gripped the shutters tight as she stared into the murky depths below. Her mind raced with images of the torment she would soon face if she did not find a way out of the situation in which her brother, Ronan, had placed her. She raised her head to the sky. Perhaps God would send one of his fastest angels down to carry her away from this mess. A light drizzle kissed her face and, yet again, her silent plea went unanswered.

  Her demise was surely predestined.

  Muren turned back toward her chamber and stepped off the ledge back onto the cold stone floor. She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort, but nothing would help. In less than an hour she would meet, and be betrothed to, one of the cruellest men in all of Scotland, and no amount of prayer or pleading could prevent it.

  No matter how hard she tried, she could not find sense in Ronan’s decision. He had always been kind to her, ever since childhood. But to break her betrothal to Rorie MacKenzie, whom she had come to love, and then promise her to the Black Douglas, who was surely Satan’s spawn, brought Ronan’s motives and his sanity into question.

  A loud knock sounded at the door causing her to her jump. Her heavy crimson and gold brocade gown lay on the bed. She had not the stomach to don it, and so now stood in the middle of her chamber with her hair unkempt wearing only her shift. How would the Douglas feel if he saw her in such a state? Perhaps he might cancel the entire arrangement if he was not pleased with her. Muren would not credit the man with empathy for she had heard of all the atrocities bestowed upon new brides at the hands of his clan. She swallowed hard.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the door’s latch. Lifting it slowly, she whispered, “Who is there?”

  “Someone who will give her life to protect you.”

  Muren swung the door open and let her breath out slowly when her brother’s wife, Freya, came into view. Her frown shattered any hope Muren possessed for good news.

  Freya stepped into the chamber and closed the door behind her. Pulling Muren into an embrace, she said, “He has arrived.”

  Icicles of dread clawed at Muren’s insides until she was certain she would lose her wits and her consciousness. “Why is he doing this, Freya? What have I done to vex him so that he must punish me like this?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you that it has nothing to do with you?”

  Muren pulled back so she could see her sister-in-law’s eyes. “No. Considering my life is the coveted prize in these barterings of his. Does he not realize who this man is?’

  “I am on your side in this, Muren. You must believe me when I say that I have ranted and raved at him for days since he told me of this madness.”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  “He said only that he is caught in a position which does not afford him any other option but to comply with this demand.”

  “Demand from whom?”

  “From King James.”

  “But why?” Muren raised her arms in the air. “How did I manage to become ensnarled in the king’s business? Who am I to him?”

  Freya shook her head. “Like so many of us, unfortunately, we are too often used as barter to increase the position of the men around us.”

  “But you changed your fate, Freya. I recall it was originally you who were to marry my Rorie.”

  “Aye, but mine and Ronan’s need for the other could not be denied. Marrying another surely would have killed me.”

  A lump formed in Muren’s throat and she swallowed hard. “That is how I feel.”

  Freya frowned. “You’re right. How can I expect you to accept that which I could not?” Freya’s brows knit. “I am certain there must be a logical way out of this.”

  “Freya, if there was, do you not think we would have found it by now? I must either present myself to the Douglas or leave, and considering the fact that he is already here, it would not be easy for that to happen, would it?”

  Shouts from outside drew Muren’s attention to the window. “Do you think Ronan has refused him entry after all?”

  “I do not know, but from the sound of it, someone is vexed.”

  From her chamber at the back of the third floor of Dunrobin, Muren could only see the ocean. But the din of men shouting from another side of the castle was unmistakable. “Should we go below to see what passes?”

  Freya went to Muren’s chest and pulled out a plain grey woolen gown Muren had not worn since coming to Dunrobin years earlier. Freya threw it at her and then pulled ou
t her old black cloak. “Put these on, and we will use the passageways to get as close as we can.”

  Muren slipped the gown over her head and while Freya fastened the ties, straightened up her long braid. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as the shouting from outside grew louder and was now accompanied by the clang of metal on metal. Was Ronan fighting the Douglas? If so, Freya was right. They needed to find out exactly what was going on and the last place she should be was in her chamber. If the Douglas won, she did not want to be anywhere he could find her.

  Freya went to the door and pressed her ear against it. “All quiet,” she whispered. She then opened it a crack and peeked out. “This way,” she whispered.

  The hallways were empty, and so they crossed and slipped into an alcove doubling as a hidden entrance to a series of secret passageways running all through the castle.

  Muren’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. She was familiar with this passage in particular and could feel her way along quite easily toward the great hall and a secret guard’s chamber. She and Rorie had met in there many times over the last couple of years upon his visits, to enjoy stolen moments.

  There were twenty-four steps down to the first landing and then a turn, and then twelve more. The hallway at the end of the second flight of steps veered off into three different directions, but the way to the great hall was in the middle.

  “Muren, wait for me!” Freya whispered. “How exactly do you know where you are going with no light to guide you?”

  “If I tell you, will you promise not to tell my brother?”

  Freya chuckled. “He is my husband, and I love him more than my own life, but I do not tell him everything.”

  “Very well. Rorie and I met in here a few times when he visited. You all watched us so closely that sometimes we just wanted a moment or two to ourselves.”

  “I knew it!”

  “Hush!”

  “I knew it,” Freya whispered. “I sensed there was more going on between you than you let on. Oh, Muren, I will not let you marry anyone but Rorie. I do not know how but we will find a way, I promise you that.”

  “Thank you, Freya. But you have your bairns to worry about. Now we are here. Let me check the chamber first to see if ‘tis occupied.”

  Entering this chamber was not as easy as slipping around a corner. A heavy stone door lay between them and either the means to learning what was happening or being caught.

  Muren felt along the wall for the release stone. Finding it, she tugged and released the door’s inner lock as slowly as she could. The door popped open a crack; enough for her to peek inside to find it empty.

  Letting out a deep breath, Muren pulled the door wide and ushered Freya through. Once inside, she secured the door again. The chamber was only large enough for four men. It was designed for guards to scan for danger while the chief held gatherings in the hall. Muren peeked through an arrow slit. She gasped and then placed her hand over her mouth so as to not give her presence away.

  Her entire body shook with the sight before her. Not only was her brother in attendance; Freya’s brother was, too, along with her Rorie. By the looks of him, he was ready to tear every man apart.

  One man stood to the side of the argument with his arms folded and a smirk upon his face. His hair was as black as night, and his eyes gleamed. The more Rorie and the others quarreled, the more satisfied he appeared. The man had the gall to pull up a chair, clasp his hands behind his head, and stretch his legs out and cross them. His grin increased as the mayhem grew around him. A chill ran down her spine at the sight of him, and somehow she knew exactly who this man was.

  Her heart constricted, and a tear slipped down her cheek. She would give anything at that moment to have Rorie wrap his strong arms around her. She turned from the slit and squeezed her eyes tight and focused on just that.

  Slowly, all the noise in the hall quieted. Muren opened her eyes and peered into the great hall again. She gasped when Rorie’s soft brown eyes met hers as he stared at the arrow slit at the exact position where she stood.

  * * *

  Rorie MacKenzie clenched his fists to keep them from flying. At this point, he didn’t care who’d be on the receiving end either. Ronan had caved too easily to the king’s demand and the Douglas needed the smirk wiped from his face.

  “For the final time, MacKenzie, I had no choice. King James has blocked me at every turn, leaving me with no way to refuse him.”

  “Since when did you back down from the king or anyone else when it came to those you are sworn to protect?” Rorie said, stepping toe-to-toe with Ronan. “We had an agreement, and you broke it. Wars have started with less provocation, Sutherland!”

  “Do you dare threaten me?” Ronan said. “My sister will come to no harm, and I have the Douglas’s assurance of that. It’s unfortunate that our agreement has dissolved, but the king assures me you will be compensated.”

  “Muren is the only compensation I want.”

  Ronan took a step back and scrubbed his hand down over his face. “I’m sorry, Rorie. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Rorie shook his head. He would get nowhere trying to reason with this madness. Resting one hand on the pommel of his long sword, he pointed at Ronan with his free hand. “We are not done with this, Sutherland.” He then turned to the Douglas. “If you leave here with her, know that every MacKenzie and MacKay will be waiting to retrieve her.”

  Rorie glanced once more at the arrow slit, praying that what he thought he sensed was not true. Hopefully, Muren knew better than to risk revealing herself. He prayed further that she would find a way out of the castle and away from the clutches of these men. There was nothing he could do for her while she remained here.

  “You are not daft enough to side with the MacKenzie in this business, are you, Fergus?” Ronan asked him.

  Fergus was a man not to be challenged on the best of days; Ronan flirted with madness to poke that bear.

  Fergus stepped forward and looked down at Ronan with a teeth-bared grin. “We’ve enjoyed peace in the last few years since you married my sister, but know this, Sutherland: I will side with MacKenzie a thousand times over before I stand by and watch you bend over and take it from the king, and then hand your own flesh and blood over to a Lowlander. Rorie has a right to be angry. Whatever course of action he decides on, we will support it.”

  Ronan leaned toward Fergus. “You do what your conscience tells you, and I’ll do the same.”

  Rorie stepped between the two men. Cooler heads must prevail. Bloodshed would solve nothing at this point, only land them in the king’s dungeon at Edinburgh Castle. “Come, Fergus. We will leave this traitor to his decision and his conscience.”

  With that, Rorie left the great hall of Dunrobin castle empty-handed. He swore he would not do so, but what choice did he have? He had not been able to raise enough men to challenge Sutherland, so he must retreat and find a more reasonable solution. And find one he would. He would die before he allowed Douglas to lay one finger on his beloved Muren. He mounted his horse and tore off outside the bailey toward the road leading west to his clan’s seat at Eilean Donan Castle.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fergus asked, riding up behind him.

  Rorie slowed to a trot. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m leaving before one of us gets killed, and where would that leave Muren? She needs my head to remain firmly planted on my shoulders to save her, and your Nessia needs the same of you.” Rorie shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s at play here any more than you do, so the best course of action is to leave while we can and think through our options.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Nothing comes to mind. Ronan assured me the only thing that would happen here today is a betrothal ceremony, so she’s safe for now. A good warrior knows when to retreat, Fergus. You taught me that.”

  Fergus’s grimace lessened. The fact that he said nothing in reply indicated concession to Rorie’s point. Fergus’s face was s
till drawn into a frown, mirroring Rorie’s feelings to the letter. Staying put and arguing it out would provide no reasonable solution. Rorie had no choice but to retreat and formulate a plan.

  Just as he was about to kick his horse into a trot, pressure formed around his heart—a familiar sensation he’d experienced every single time Muren was near. He looked over his shoulder and scanned the balcony on which she often stood after his past visits as they parted. Today it was empty. Perhaps it was just familiarity from the many times he had turned for one last look at this point on the road. Either way, he could not stay, and she could not come with him. Not today. But soon.

  Chapter Two

  Feeling her way along, Muren hurried back to her chamber, her eyes filled with tears. Rorie had left her to her fate! Her heart ached as she tried to reason out whether to go through with the betrothal now and then escape, or leave straight away. Before she could decide either way, a familiar tingling began at the base of her neck and spread up the back of her skull until an invisible band pressed inward.

  “No, not now,” she said in a whimper, as she clutched her skull and crossed the chamber threshold.

  “Sweet Brigit Muren! Is it happening again?” Freya said from somewhere behind her.

  Muren couldn’t tell where Freya was and lacked the strength to focus on anything but the pain in her head. Doubling over the bed, she prayed to God that it would pass quickly this time.

  The sensation of her legs lifting from the floor barely registered as she held her head and squeezed her eyes shut. If she stayed perfectly still for the next few minutes, she had a chance of riding this out quickly, but if she fought it, she was in for a long night.

  “I will draw the curtains,” Freya whispered. “And I’ll have some cool water and cloths sent up.”