The Highlander's Warrior Bride

Their greatest opponent won’t be battled with a sword…

But with their hearts…

Ronan Sutherland is a fierce warrior. Swearing off all else, he thrives on his powerful position within William Wallace’s army. Freedom for the Scots is his mission—until he meets fair Julianna. She captivates him, intoxicates him…makes him want more out of life than what harsh dangers he’s accustomed to.

Lady Julianna is no meek maiden. She’s trained in the art of war, sister to one of Scotland’s most powerful men, and tasked with keeping the future king safe. Until she’s kidnapped by a rivaling clan. Now her only hope is for the one man she trusts—and desires—to save her.

Together, they’ll have to face down one of Scotland’s most treacherous foes… And keep from falling victim to the one thing they’ve both eluded thus far—love.

The Highlander’s Warrior Bride

Book Four: The Stolen Bride Series

By

Eliza Knight

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FIRST EDITION

March 2013

Copyright 201
3 © Eliza Knight

THE HIGHLANDER’S WARRIOR BRIDE © 2013 Eliza Knight. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part or the whole of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted or utilized (other than for reading by the intended reader) in ANY form (now known or hereafter invented) without prior written permission by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and punishable by law. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and or are used fictitiously and solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental.

Cover Design by Kimberly Killion @ Hot Damn Designs

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Also Available by Eliza Knight

The Highlander’s Reward – Book One, The Stolen Bride Series

The Highlander’s Conquest – Book Two, The Stolen Bride Series

The Highlander’s Lady – Book Three, The Stolen Bride Series

Behind the Plaid (Highland Bound Trilogy, Book One)

A Lady’s Charade
(Book 1: The Rules of Chivalry)

A Knight’s Victory (Book 2: The Rules of Chivalry)

A Gentleman’s Kiss

Men of the Sea Series:
Her Captain Returns, Her Captain Surrenders, Her Captain Dares All

The Highland Jewel Series:
Warrior in a Box, Lady in a Box, Love in a Box

Lady Seductress’s Ball

Take it Off, Warrior

Highland Steam

A Pirate’s Bounty

Highland Tryst (Something Wicked This Way Comes Volume 1)

Highlander Brawn (
Sequel to
Highland Steam)

Coming soon…

The Highlander’s Triumph – Book Five, The Stolen Bride Series

Bared to the Highlander (Highland Bound Trilogy, Book Two)

Writing under the name Annabelle Weston

Wicked Woman (Desert Heat)

Scandalous
Woman (Desert Heat)

Notorious Woman (Desert Heat)

Mr. Temptation

Hunting Tucker

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Visit Eliza Knight at
www.elizaknight.com
or
www.historyundressed.com

Dedication

To Andrea—Thank you for being my travel companion! Visiting Scotland, and the castles of my tales in particular, was amazing and magical!
I’ll never forget our adventures! You’re a dear friend, and I thank you so much for all your support!

Acknowledgements

Once again, special thanks to Vonda, Andrea and all of my loyal and new readers. These books would not be possible without you!

Chapter One

T
he tent was dark. Cold. If Lady Julianna had a candle, she’d surely see her breath upon the night air. Puffs of white spilling from her mouth in angry bursts.

Damn the Ross and
his ill-fated decisions. Damn the English and their desire to crush the Scots.

I
f she could go back a few days prior, she would do everything the same way—save maybe tucking more weapons on her person.

At least she wasn’t shackled. Although having free reign of a prison cell made of fabric
and surrounded by guards wasn’t really any better. Her numerous attempts at escape had been quickly thwarted. She rubbed her arms furiously against the winter chill. Her cloak was thick and well made, but after a while, layers did not keep a body warm. Oh, what she wouldn’t do for a nice, blazing fire and a dram of Cook’s spiced whisky.

Three days ago, she’d been intent on speaking with Lady Myra at Eilean Donan Castle
—an act that landed her here within the camp of her enemy.

Even still, she wouldn’t change a thing.
It wasn't Myra's fault they were kidnapped. She and Myra had gotten off on the wrong foot, and Julianna wanted to make up for it by helping her escape. Although she wasn’t sure why Myra would want to leave when she obviously loved Laird Murray, but who was Julianna to judge?

She shrugged in the darkness. Truly, she
had no right to pass judgment on anyone. Hadn’t she eschewed her own feelings of desire, of passion—of dare she say it—something emotionally deeper? Not that it mattered. Julianna couldn’t marry until her brother deemed it so, and for the foreseeable future, that didn’t seem to be the case.

She was glad.
Marriage would only bind her. Wrap her up in a neat little package and put her on the shelf. That was not the life Julianna wanted. She was a warrior.

Trained in the arts of war. Trained to protect the King of Scotland. Little good that did
her now, seeing as how she sat prisoner in this Godforsaken tent, by the devil Laird Ross.

“Humph.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Still, she’d not change a thing.

When she slipped into the passageway leading to Myra’s room and saw her being carried away—gagged and trussed up—she had to save her. That’s what she was trained to do. She had no other choice. Myra had traveled a long way, risked death, all to give Robert the Bruce a message. A message that saved his life.

Following the brutes who dared harm a lady, Julianna thought little of her own safety, only of saving Myra. No one else witnessed her being
abducted. As a warrior, Julianna felt it was her duty to see to everyone’s safety.

She’d jumped in front of the men, stopping them in their path and demanded they unhand Myra. They
’d laughed at her. Right in her face, their breath foul, spittle flying. Julianna ignored their laughter and offered to take Myra’s place. That made them laugh harder. And harder. They knew who she was, and she recognized them too. Colin and Alisdair. Two relatively new retainers in Robert the Bruce’s army. They knew Julianna was important. But she was sure they didn’t know
how
significant. She was a kitchen servant, or at least that’s what they thought her to be. It did not go unnoticed that she had the ear of Robert. No one, however, knew just what her role was. They’d kept that a secret. They’d had to. It was the only way to protect themselves.

After all, theirs was an illusion created to distract, to confuse.

Colin and Alisdair took her up on the offer—but then double-crossed her by refusing to release Myra. The bastards. But in the end, that didn’t matter, they hadn’t succeeded because she’d helped Myra escape. Unfortunately, they could not both escape, there wasn’t enough time and Julianna had to distract the guards while Myra ran. Now Julianna only needed to bide her time.

The Bruce would be fine for a day or two without her—albeit
by now he was probably in a mighty temper.

As soon as Myra came too, Julianna forced her out of the tent
and toward the woods, to freedom. Myra meant nothing to Ross. He’d kill her without giving it a second thought. Julianna, however, was another story. Another story indeed. He wouldn’t dare harm her. Not if he valued his life. By killing her, Ross would be signing his own death warrant. And she was pretty sure he knew it.

Though she still wasn’t sure if he knew exactly who she was and what role she played, it was evident he wasn’t going to take any chances. The fact that she’d sworn on her life and that of the future king’s, then declared that she was valuable enough for a ransom
only made him double the guards around the tent—and then triple them after Myra escaped. Now, she was trapped by a wall of guards. Escape seemed impossible.
Seemed.

In truth, she’d already devised a plan.

Reaching up, she touched the two pins that held her hair in a tight knot.

She’d bide her time.

Besides, hadn’t she asked Myra to give Ronan Sutherland her regards?

Ronan. Forbidden.

And so much more.

Could they ever have more than witty conversations? She was foolish to think so. It could never happen for them.
Never
. Oh, but how he made her heart flutter… Julianna lay back on the chilly cot and stared into the blackness. But, she had a right to her dreams, even if one day they might break her heart. She imagined him riding headlong into their enemy’s camp. He’d swipe his sword in one arc after another, cutting them all down. And then he’d spot her. Their eyes would meet, and he’d whisk her up onto his horse and ride away with her.

That was only a fantasy.

No man in their right mind would step into the Ross camp alone. And she’d never ride away with him.

Her duty was to Scotland.

No man besides the Bruce would ever have her loyalty.

Julianna flopped an arm over her face. She was drained. But sleep did not come. She’d barely closed her eyes in the three days since she’d been captured. But she wasn’t tired of mind. Her thoughts raced constantly, though her body was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. She often kept herself up days at a stretch, training or fasting to prepare herself for times such as this. The first two days had been easy. This last day was taking its toll.

She was starving. Ross barely fed her. What food he gave her in the beginning she’d given to Myra to aid in her escape. And what food she had now, was barely enough to sustain life. She licked her parched lips. This too she’d overcome.

Perhaps if she just allowed herself to rest a little… On the morrow she’d attempt an escape.

“Get up, bitch!”

Julianna
had barely dozed off when she was jolted awake. Sunlight streamed through the opening of the tent where one of Ross’ men stood holding a mug and a bowl. His hair was greasy and his clothes equally foul. These men had been too long away from civilization—if the Ross’ holding could be called that.

“Your breakfast. Eat up. Ye’ll need your strength today. Ross has something special planned for ye.”

The way he wiggled his brows gave her cause to shudder, but she kept it hidden and smiled at him, throwing him off balance.

“I certainly do enjoy special things,” she answered, proud that her voice came out so clear.

He glowered and slammed the mug and bowl onto the small table in the middle of the room.

“Ye willna enjoy this, I promise.”

Julianna laughed and sat up. “I enjoy all things, ye rat.”

The man left the tent grumbling about a mad wench.

Good. If they thought her mad, she might gain the upper hand. But panic was also setting in. What sort of
special
things did Ross have planned for her? Being a woman held by a ruthless, cruel man did not bode well. Whatever Ross had planned would be painful, scarring.

“Dammit.” Julianna rose from the bed, walked on shaky legs to the table and gripped the mug. It was filled with a yellowish liquid, and one sniff told her it wasn’t watered ale.

She flung
the mug across the tent and gritted her teeth. Her mouth was parched. Tongue felt swollen. When was the last time she had a drink? She didn’t know. Was that vomit? Gazing at the plate didn’t improve her mood at all. Where the hell was Ronan? She planned on waiting for him to arrive with reinforcements. Robert would want to take the Ross down. Especially after this injustice. Wasn’t that his plan after all? To stamp out Ross and all who served him? Being saved by Ronan was her reward, and she deserved to be rewarded because she had planned to join them in the fight.

But she was too weak
and dizzy. Her fingers tingled, and she was certain by the end of the day she would collapse. Her plans had to be altered.

To stay alive she had to escape. There was no other option. As much as she wanted to wait for Ronan, to fall into his arms while he played the hero,
her hero
, she couldn’t wait. She had to act now. Crawling toward the back of the tent where she’d cut a slit for Myra to escape—which had been promptly sewn up—she glanced under the hem to see how many men stood on the other side.

They were nearly feet to feet.

She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to the cool ground and said a prayer for patience, for perseverance, for strength. Pushing herself to her feet, Julianna took a deep breath, and with all her might, shoved her hands against the tent and into one of the retainer’s backs.

Anger did not begin to describe the burning feeling that surged through Ronan’s veins.

No, anger was an understatement. He was mad with fury. Not even rage did his reaction justice. His very skin was afire with the need to slice, dice and maul ever last Ross warrior.

How dare they infiltrate his camp and steal one of the most fascinating women he’d ever met—not to mention they’d kidnapped and beaten his cousin Murray’s wife, Myra. They would pay. Every last devil-worshiping one of them.

And worst of all, how had he not known they had enemies walking amongst them? Ronan was a trained warrior. A man of honor. He was second in command to William Wallace and in charge of training the future King of Scotland’s own army. They needed the men, the funds, the training, in order to beat the English. Their bastard king was hell bent on destroying the Scots and taking their country away from them.

He even raped brides on their wedding nights hoping to breed the Scots from their own lands.
Well, Ronan was not about to let that happen. He would fight to the death—and be victorious—every last English bastard and any Scot who betrayed their country would fall on his sword. The English could not be allowed to rule here. He wouldn’t allow his brothers’ and cousins’ wives to be raped by the English. No matter what it took, blood, sweat, tears, whatever he had to do, he wouldn’t allow his country to be shattered.

Even if it took him the rest of his life. He would fight every Ross wannabe from the east to the west, from the north to the south, and see to it that Robert the Bruce remained in control and that the Scots stayed Scots.
William Wallace was an inspiration. A warrior with heart, courage and a set of ballocks Ronan had only seen the likes of in his eldest brother Magnus. Ronan would like to believe that he too had ballocks of iron, his sword certainly was.

But seething about the war wouldn’t help anything at the moment. Right now he needed to concentrate on this battle, this mission.