Highland Revenge (Fated Hearts Book 1) (12 page)

Ceci started her career as an oncology nurse at a leading research hospital, and eventually became a successful medical writer. In 1991 she married a young Irish carpenter who she met at a friend’s wedding. They raised their family in central New Jersey but now live with their dogs and birds in paradise, also known as southwest Florida. While she loves spending time writing “happily ever afters” she still works fulltime in the pharmaceutical industry.

The Duncurra series,
Highland Solution
,
Highland Courage
,
and
Highland Intrigue
are available as e-books, audiobooks, and paperbacks. Ceci will be continuing this series in the near future.

Highland Echoes is the second book in The Fated Hearts series. The first in the series, Highland Revenge, tells the story of Fiona MacNicol, and Eoin MacKay. Highland Revenge is included in the collection
Highland Winds – The Scrolls of Cridhe Volume One
. The third book in the series, Highland Angels (Anna MacKay’s story) will be released in the summer of 2015.

The Scrolls of Cridhe, Volume 2, Highland Flames, will be released in the fall of 2015 and Ceci is diligently working on her novella for this collection

If you enjoyed Highland Revenge, you might enjoy the other novellas in
Highland Winds – The Scrolls of Cridhe Volume 1

In addition to Highland Revenge, the collection contains the following:

The Taming of Mairi Mackenzie
– by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Mairi MacKenzie can bring the dead back to life but it is an unbearable curse. She hides away in the Glen of Winds, allowing folk to believe she’s a banshee.

Once counted among Scotland’s greatest warriors, Sir Gare MacTaggert hasn’t lifted a sword in years because of a battlefield tragedy that broke his soul. Now he must marry, yet can't wed any woman, dead as he is inside. He seeks the banshee’s aid to restore his will to live. But together they must face a greater challenge: the forbidden love that could destroy them.

Stealing Moirra’s Heart
– by Suzan Tisdale

Thrice widowed Moirra Dundotter needs a husband. With a reputation for losing husbands, the men of Glenkirby are not exactly lining up. Just as she is ready to give up, Moirra happens upon a very handsome man--locked in the village pillory.

Desperate to be free of the pillory, the stranger reluctantly agrees to handfast with Moirra, but refuses to tell her his real name -- or much else about his past. He’ll stay only long enough to help her harvest crops in the fall. Two months. And not one day longer.

Fate oft has far different plans.

The conclusion of Moirra’s story is in
Saving Moirra’s Heart
, due for release on June 15, 2015.

Spirit Stones
– by Kate Robbins

Connected to the spirit world, Sheona engages with souls long departed. When in the midst of a vicious battle, she is captured by her bitter enemy. Armed with only her gift, can she escape his clutches?

Malcolm MacDonald seeks change. Exhausted from the ancient feud with the MacLeods, Malcolm sees no future for any of them until his enemy’s intoxicating daughter stirs a desire for peace that drives him to risk everything—except her.

Together, they can change destiny—if they dare.

A Tear for Memory
– by Kathryn Lynn Davis

Celia Rose lives happily in Fairies’ Haven, where the lies that protect her from the past keep the fairies away. She finds her only magic when she paints. Then a stranger comes on a mysterious errand, showing her new colors and new passions. But he also brings danger, and is not what he seems. Can Celia trust him enough to learn the dark secret that could both destroy her innocence and forge in her a woman’s heart?

A Jewel in the Vaults
– by Lily Baldwin

In 1802, Edinburgh’s poverty-ridden Old Town is rife with danger. To safeguard herself, Robbie conceals her femininity--to all the world she is a lad, but beneath the ruse is a woman aching to break free.

In pursuit of his prodigal brother, Conall MacKay solicits the aid of a young street lad named Robbie. But Conall soon realizes that there is more to both Robbie and Edinburgh’s Old Town than meets the eye.

In a world where wickedness governs and darkness reigns, a savage struggle for dignity, survival, and love begins.

Lord Grayson’s Bride
– by Tarah Scott

Nicholas Spencer, Earl of Grayson, won’t make the same mistake twice and let Josephine Knightly go. She loves him. He felt it in their one kiss before he left, and in the single kiss she allowed since his return. But she’s doing everything in her power to sabotage the marriage even before it’s begun. Nicholas doesn’t care. If Hell is where he must live to have her, then she must stand by his side in the fire.

Curious about what happens to Bram Sutherland now that his betrothal to Fiona MacNicol fell through? Find out in
Highland Echoes
the second book in the Fated Heart series.

Sutherland Castle, Early June 1340

Soaked by the late spring rain and chilled to the bone, Bram Sutherland thought the gates of home had never looked so inviting. It had been a long, wet ride from Castle MacKay. The skies had only cleared in the last hour. They would have been welcome to stay another night waiting out the storm at Naomh-dùn, the MacKay stronghold, but thankfully his father had declined. Bram couldn’t stand the thought of spending another minute there. His betrothed had married Eoin MacKay. Bram hadn’t wanted to linger and be reminded of his loss.

Letting Fiona MacNicol go had been the right thing to do but that didn’t make it less disappointing. Until yesterday he hadn’t even met her. But once he had, he found her not only beautiful, but strong, loyal, and possessed of a loving heart—a heart that was, unfortunately, deeply in love with Eoin MacKay. Even though Bram had been tempted to force the terms of their betrothal contract, her heart would never belong to him and he couldn’t bear to see her unhappy.

They slogged into the courtyard. His father gave his mount to the care of a stable hand. “Son, I expect supper is nigh on the table. Leave yer beast to one of the lads. We’ll fill our bellies with good food and ale and try to put this mess behind us.”

Bram generally preferred to care for his own horse and while he had been looking forward to the warmth of hearth and home for hours, arriving at the start of the evening meal had disadvantages. He was less than anxious to face the onslaught of questions about what had happened and why they didn’t have Fiona MacNicol with them. “I’ll see to Goliath myself but I won’t be long.”

“Bram, ye could have had her. The law was on our side.”

“Nay, Da, we have been through this. It would have been wrong. Fiona and Eoin love each other.”

“Bah. Love. Kentigern MacKay would never have stood for this.” His father’s tone of voice clearly conveyed how unimportant that detail was.

“Perhaps not, but he is dead. Eoin is laird and in spite of being solid allies for years, if we had forced the issue, he would have become a mortal enemy to the Sutherlands until either I lay dead or he did. Not to mention the fact that I would be married to a woman who would have hated me forever. This was the right course.”

“Whether it was or wasn’t, it’s done now and we’ll need to find another way to ally with the MacNicols. I think I must consider Bhaltair’s daughter for Boyd, and the sooner the better. We need to get that sorted while they are young—before either of them gets any foolish notions about love in their heads.”

Bram just shook his head at his father’s utter dismissal of the emotion. Bram had understood from an early age that he would marry a woman of his father’s choosing, a woman who strengthened clan ties. He hadn’t thought much about love and perhaps had discounted its importance as thoroughly as his father had. That was until he saw Fiona and Eoin together. He didn’t want to admit it, but he envied them.

His father must have taken his silence for agreement, because he continued, “Aye, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. I will take care of it as soon as Laird MacNicol has recovered. And we will find a bonny bride for ye too, Bram. That young Anna MacKay is quite a pretty thing, even if she is a bit too bold for her own good.”

“
A bit too bold?
That is an understatement. Whoever marries her will have his hands full. I’m not sure I’m up to the task. Besides, she is very young.”

“Seventeen is not that young. But there is also Annice…”

“Nay, Da, please, can’t this wait? I don’t wish to discuss another betrothal at the moment and I need to see to Goliath.”

“Fine, we won’t discuss it now. It can wait…a few days. Don’t dwell on this, Bram.”

“Aye, Da.”

His father turned toward the keep, calling as he went, “Don’t be all night. Yer mother will want to hear every detail of what happened and I don’t have the patience.”

By all the saints, Bram loved his mother but he didn’t have the patience for an inquisition tonight either. Bram led Goliath into the stable, removed his tack, rubbed him down, and fed him an extra portion of oats. When he had finished, he was still not anxious to face the crowd certain to have formed in the great hall. He could avoid it by going straight to the kitchen. Innes would give him food and ale and he could slip up the backstairs, avoiding the great hall altogether tonight. He actually might be able to get through this day without having to rehash everything yet again.

Bram walked from the stables through the outer bailey heading to the rear entrance to the inner bailey, near the kitchens. As he passed one of the small dwellings located within the outer bailey, a woman’s voice, perhaps the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, drifted toward him on the breeze. He stopped to listen. The tune was unfamiliar and he couldn’t quite catch the words, but it was delightful.

He followed the enchanting melody, drawing close enough to the source to understand the lyrics.

Hush my sweetling, hushaby,

The sun sets slowly in the sky,

Tis time to sleep for evening’s nigh,

Hush my sweetling, hushaby.

Hush my sweetling, little dove,

Mama’s heart is filled with love,

Papa watches from above,

Hush my sweetling, little dove.

They were the nonsense words mothers crooned to bairns, but he was entranced by the soft, sweet voice of what could only be an angel. He stopped in front of the tiny cottage to listen.

Hush my sweetling, little sprite,

Too soon ye’ll wake to morning bright,

So sleep now through the still dark night,

Hush my sweetling, little sprite.

The woman stopped singing words but continued to hum her lullaby until finally her voice faded away altogether. Bram was so captivated by the music it took him a moment to realize it had emanated from Innes’ cottage. However, it certainly was not Innes singing. She would be in the kitchen or the keep now, overseeing the evening meal. Who was it then?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, a young woman he had never seen before stepped out of the cottage. She was perfectly lovely. Her face was delicately beautiful; as angelic as her voice. Rich auburn hair spilled from under a white kertch in soft curls that reached well past the middle of her back. Tall for a woman, she had full breasts and her belt cinched a narrow waist. She stretched and rolled her shoulders, her movements graceful and oddly enticing. Bram felt a twinge of disappointment when his brain registered the kertch. She was married. Of course she was—she had been crooning a lullaby to a child.

When she cast a glance his direction, she gasped and stumbled backwards, feeling blindly for the door latch. “I didn’t see ye there. Ye startled me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to.” Why was he apologizing to her? He had committed no offense. He took a step toward her.

She went from frightened to ferocious in a matter of seconds. “Stay back. What are ye doin’ here anyway? Who are ye?” she demanded.

Who did she think she was? She was certainly in no position to demand anything from him. “I think, lass, it is ye who needs to start explaining.
Who are ye
and why were ye in Innes’ cottage?”

“Innes is my grandmother, she asked us to stay with her.”

“Yer grandmother? Innes has no children. I won’t tolerate liars, no matter how lovely they are. Who are ye? I want the truth and I won’t ask again.”

She scowled, affronted. “I am not a liar. I told ye, Innes is my grandmother and she did have a child, a son named Tristan. I am his daughter, Grace Breive.”

Tristan, aye, he had a vague memory of that. “I stand corrected. She had a son. But Tristan died years ago.”

“Nay, Tristan
disappeared
years ago. He didn’t die.”

“And ye are his daughter, Innes’ long-lost granddaughter. How sweet. And unlikely. What game is this? Innes is important to Clan Sutherland. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of her, playing on her feelings.”

“I am not playing on her feelings. I am her granddaughter and have proven that to her. But it’s a long story and I don’t see how any of this concerns ye.”

“It concerns me, Grace, because everything at Sutherland concerns me. I am Bram Sutherland, Laird Sutherland’s heir.”

Grace became immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant no offense. But, I have told ye the truth.”

“The babe ye were singing to is yers?”

“Aye, I have a young daughter. I should go back inside. I just stepped out for a bit of air. The rain kept us indoors all day.” Again, her hand groped behind her, searching for the door latch.

“This isn’t over, Grace Breive. If ye and yer husband want to live at Sutherland, ye will need permission from the laird, whether ye are Innes’ granddaughter or no. And I hope ye do have proof of who ye are. I won’t allow ye to hurt Innes in any way and giving her false hope about a long lost son would kill her.” He took a step towards her, reaching past to lift the latch, which so far had eluded her hand. “Goodnight, Mistress Breive.”

He was surprised by the expression on her face. It wasn’t anger or fear of discovery. The green depths of her eyes were guileless and she appeared…was it grateful?

“Goodnight laird—I mean Bram—I mean sir. Goodnight.” She backed through the door and closed it.

He stood there for a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts about this newest addition to the clan. It all seemed odd. He would speak with Da about this…but not tonight. He resumed his walk, entering into the inner bailey. He had almost reached the kitchens when his brother Ian called to him. “Bram, there ye are. Da sent someone to fetch ye from the stables, but I figured ye were avoiding dinner in the hall and I’d find ye in the kitchens.”

Ian was two years younger than Bram. For brothers, they looked nothing alike. Both were tall, but Bram had fair hair and blue eyes like their mother and Ian had dark hair and brown eyes like their father. Their temperaments were vastly different as well. Although Bram smiled easily, he tended to be quiet and often serious. Like Laird Sutherland, he revealed very little of what he was thinking, sometimes appearing aloof. Even so, most of their clansmen considered him level-headed and fair. They believed he would make a good leader when his time came. Ian, too, was quick with a smile but that was where the similarities ended. He enjoyed a good time, and seemingly took very little seriously. However, Ian was acutely observant and absolutely forthright. Most people knew exactly where he stood on any issue. As different as they were, Ian was truly his best friend. “Aye Ian, ye know me well. Do me a kindness and tell Da ye didn’t find me.”

“Ah, well now brother, I could tell Da ye weren’t in the kitchens, because ye weren’t. But Mother is anxious to see ye too and ye and she can see right through any guile.”

Bram sighed heavily. “I suppose it was vain hope to think I could avoid this.” Bran fell in step by his brother as they walked to the keep.

“Aye, it was. Ye know how excited mother was to finally have a daughter, or at least a daughter-to-be. Da would only say that ye were the one who chose to release the MacNicol lass from the betrothal. When Mam kept asking questions he roared for someone to fetch ye from the stable and then he stomped off to his solar with a jug of whiskey under one arm.”

“Damn, I wanted to talk to him about Innes.”

“Ye heard about her long-lost granddaughter?”

“I just met her. Ye knew about her?”

“Aye, she arrived the day ye and Da left for Naomh-dùn. She seems nice enough. Innes adores her.”

“I wish we knew more about her. It is hard to believe their story and yet I don’t see what they have to gain by lying.”

“Innes is certain the lass is her granddaughter. She had a brooch that belonged to Tristan.”

“What about her husband? Have ye met him? What is he like?”

“She has no husband. She’s a widow. She arrived with just her daughter, a few days ago. It was the day ye and Da left.”

“A widow? She is an awfully young widow.”

“Bram, let this go for now. Innes is thrilled. Tomorrow will be soon enough to sort out Innes’ granddaughter. Besides, it will likely take ye all evening to answer to mother’s questions.”

“I suppose ye are right. Well then, let the interrogation begin,” said Bram as they entered the keep.

~ * ~

Grace leaned against the door, listening for Bram Sutherland’s retreating footsteps. For much too long a moment, she heard nothing. Then, finally, the crunch of the gravel told her he was leaving.

So that was Bram Sutherland. How could ye have been so rude and stupid, Grace?
Her initial shock at finding a man standing outside the cottage had quickly shifted to fear. She supposed that feeling threatened, her protective instincts had kicked in and she had gone on the offensive to keep Kristen safe. Perhaps that is also why she didn’t correct him when he assumed her husband was with her. Still, he would find out soon enough.