Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (20 page)

BOOK: Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5)
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Uncle Logan smiled and nodded. “We wondered how long it would be before you figured that out for yourself, lass.”

“Ashlyn, you could never disappoint us by making the choice that’s right for you. You must trust your instincts. That much we’ve both taught you. You’ve had a most difficult life,” Aunt Gwyneth said, “and you deserve happiness. Now go find him.” She winked at her and waved her off.

Ashlyn turned her horse around and headed back to the castle, tears running down her face as she made peace with her decision and her new life. Aye, Gracie and her family would still be a major part of her life, but she had room for one more.

Magnus. And it was time she told him.

Once she reached the top of the hill, she jumped off her horse. Magnus sat on a rock throwing sticks for his dogs, a huge smile on his face. Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of him. She yelled his name, and he turned to wave to her.

So full of emotion she could not speak, Ashlyn raced down the hill and threw herself into his arms. “Your fever is gone already? Should you not be inside?”

“Not completely gone yet, but I feel much better, and the dogs were anxious to retrieve their sticks. Your mother’s potions and poultices have helped quite a bit. What is it? You have a strange look on your face. I thought you were going to Edinburgh. Did I miss something?”

When she was finally able to keep her tears in check, she kissed him, devouring him.

Many moments later, she finally pulled back, and he grinned at her—that wonderful grin he almost always wore, but this one had a quirk to it that seemed to be just for her. “I love you, Magnus, and if you’ll still have me, naught would make me happier than to be your wife.”

“I love you, too, and you have no idea how much your words please me, Ashlyn. But you changed your mind? You are not going to Edinburgh?”

She shook her head with such certainty she surprised herself. “Nay. I’d prefer to stay here with you. You and I belong together, right here on Grant land. I wish to look forward, not backward.”

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly, and she had to fight to keep from crying because something happened inside her that she had thought would never, ever happen in her lifetime.

Her heart sang.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

One year later

 

Ashlyn paced the front chamber, her hands massaging her swollen belly, taking deep breaths to try to calm the pain rippling through her body. When the contraction ended, she moved over to her husband, the fear on his face so evident that it broke her heart. He was so agitated he leaned against the wall instead of sitting.

She knew what was going on in his head. He was reliving that fateful night when his wee wife Rhona had died giving birth to the son who had died along with her. Magnus had been left alone with a broken heart. His losses had almost crushed him.

She stood on the tips of her toes, cupped his cheek, and kissed him. “Magnus, I wish I could give you a potion to make you sleep until this was over. Then you would not have to go through such hell.”

“Nay. No potion. Just promise me.”

“I will be here, I promise. We will raise this bairn together.”

The sweat beaded on his forehead and he dried it with a linen square. “I have a favor to ask, ‘tis quite unusual.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Enter.” Ashlyn hollered.

Her mother flew in the door with Gracie behind her. Caralyn glanced at her daughter first and then at Magnus. “Oh, Magnus. While I cannot promise, I think this will be much different for you. Maddie is coming to help. Why do you not go visit with Robbie while she brings your bairn into the world?”

Magnus shook his head, not taking his gaze off his wife for an instant.

“Mama, I’m fine. I just finished a pain, and Magnus was telling me he had a special request. Go ahead and finish. Whatever it is, we shall do it if it will ease your mind.”

He swallowed before he spoke and took her hand in his. “I wish to stay by your side. I know Alex sat behind Maddie whenever she delivered, but I do not wish to be behind you. I must be able to look at you.”

“Why, Magnus?” Ashlyn had been at many births, so she knew it was an unusual request. He was going to have a difficult time until the bairn was here and in her arms awake and well. “Do you know how horrible I shall look, or how loud I may get?”

Caralyn arranged all her tools on the table, handing the bucket to Gracie to go for water. “Magnus, ‘tis her first. It could be a verra long time for her. You’ll fall off the stool.”

“Nay, I will not. I will be able to handle aught so long as I can see her.”

“But why? There is naught you can do.” Ashlyn stood next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She was afraid she would frighten him if she yelled or screamed, and she did not want to upset him more.

“Aye, there is.” His voice shook as he spoke, telling her how emotional he was at this moment.

“What?”

Ashlyn and her mother stood in front of him, awaiting his answer.

“If you do die, I can tell you I love you and hold you while you pass. I could not do that with Rhona. Please. I wish to stay by your side, mayhap I can help you.”

“Of course,” Ashlyn whispered, barely able to get a sound past the catch in her throat. When she was able, she said, “I would love to have you by my side.”

“Why not?” Caralyn agreed. “I am willing to try something new. Please do me a favor and find a chair instead of a stool. I heard Kyle Maule fell right off the back of his stool when he saw his twins.”

A few hours later, Ashlyn pushed, cursing at everything in sight but her husband. She swore this bairn would never come out of her. She heaved and grunted, her husband gripping her hand, his eyes never leaving her as she labored to deliver their firstborn. He’d stayed by her side, never wavering, kissing her, whispering soft words to her as she bellowed to the mighty trees above.

“Come, Ashlyn, push! The bairn is almost out. One strong push should do it. I see dark hair,” her mother said. She and Aunt Maddie had been whispering encouragements throughout the birthing. Gracie stood opposite Magnus, at turns mopping Ashlyn’s forehead and holding her other hand.

Tears blurred Ashlyn’s vision as she fought her frustration and exhaustion and pushed with all her might. The bairn finally slid out of her and landed in her mother’s arms. She fell back on the pillows, panting from exertion, and closed her eyes as her huge sigh of relief echoed through the chamber.

Magnus jumped up from his chair as soon as her eyes closed. “Ashlyn, you promised me. You will not die on me.”

Her eyes flew open. “I’m not dying, husband. I just needed a moment’s rest. ‘Twas hard work.” She cupped his cheek with her hand, and he leaned down to kiss her on the mouth.

Then it dawned on her. “What is it, Mama? A lad or a lassie?”

“Congratulations! You have a beautiful lassie.” As if on cue, their daughter let out a wail, screaming loud enough to wake everyone in the land, her hands fisted and swinging.

“And a strong lassie. Listen to that voice.” Aunt Maddie leaned over to kiss Ashlyn’s cheek before she moved back to help clean the wee bairn before bundling her.

Ashlyn peered at her husband, and his head fell forward as if in prayer, so she said naught, giving him this time for himself. When he lifted his head, she was shocked at the contortion on his face. “Magnus, are you not happy with a lass?” He’d never let on that he wished for a son. Then her big, strapping husband suddenly did something that she would never have expected.

Magnus burst into tears. When he had calmed down a wee bit, he lifted her so he could sit on the bed and settle her on his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he cried into her shoulder. Her mother finished cleaning the bairn and placed the wee bundle in Ashlyn’s arms and then kissed her daughter’s cheek before stepping back.

Ashlyn’s husband, tears covering his face, managed to say, “She’s just what I’d prayed for, a wee lassie, strong like her mama.”

 

 

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Novels by Keira Montclair

 

The Clan Grant Series

#
1-
RESCUED BY A HIGHLANDER
-Alex and Maddie

#2-
HEALING A HIGHLANDER’S HEART
-Brenna and Quade

#3-
LOVE LETTERS FROM LARGS
-Brodie and Celestina

#4-
JOURNEY TO THE HIGHLANDS
-Robbie and Caralyn

#5-
HIGHLAND SPARKS
-Logan and Gwyneth

#6-
MY DESPERATE HIGHLANDER
-Micheil and Diana

#7-
THE BRIGHTEST STAR IN THE HIGHLANDS
-Jennie and Aedan

#8-
HIGHLAND HARMONY
-Avelina and Drew

 

The Highland Clan

LOKI
-Book One

TORRIAN
-Book Two

LILY
-Book Three

JAKE-Book Four

ASHLYN-Book Five

 

 

The Summerhill Series- Contemporary Romance

#1-
ONE SUMMERHILL DAY

#2-
A FRESH START FOR TWO

 

Regency

THE DUKE AND THE DRESSMAKER

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoyed my fifth novel in THE HIGHLAND CLAN series,
Ashlyn
. If you are interested in learning more about Ashlyn’s younger days, Robbie and Caralyn’s story was told in
Journey to the Highlands
, the fourth in the Clan Grant series. Molly’s story is next, and I am excited to tell her story.

If you want to know more about my novels, here are some places for you to visit.

  1.    
    Visit my website at
    www.keiramontclair.com
    and sign up for my newsletter. I’ll keep you updated about my new releases without bothering you often.
  2.    
    Go to my Facebook page and ‘like’ me:
    You will get updates on any new novels, book signings, and giveaways.

https://www.facebook.com/KeiraMontclair

  1.    
    Stop by my Pinterest page:

http://www.pinterest.com/KeiraMontclair/
You’ll see how I envision Ashlyn and Magnus.

  1.    
    Leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
    Reviews help self-published authors like me and help other readers as well.

 

Continue on for an excerpt from
Journey to the Highlands
, the story of Robbie, Caralyn, Ashlyn, and Gracie.

 

Happy reading!

Keira Montclair

www.keiramontclair.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Keira Montclair is the pen name of an author who lives in Florida with her husband. She loves to write fast-paced, emotional romance, especially with children as secondary characters in her stories.

She has worked as a registered nurse in pediatrics and recovery room nursing. Teaching is another of her loves, and she has taught both high school mathematics and practical nursing.

Now she loves to spend her time writing, but there isn't enough time to write everything she wants! Her Highlander Clan Grant series, comprising of eight standalone novels, is a reader favorite. Her third series, The Highland Clan, set twenty years after the Clan Grant series, focuses on the Grant/Ramsay descendants. She also has a contemporary series set in The Finger Lakes of Western New York.

You may contact her through her website at
www.keiramontclair.com
. She also has a Facebook account and a twitter account through Keira Montclair. If you send her an email through her website, she promises to respond.

 

 

An excerpt from
JOURNEY
TO THE HIGHLANDS
:

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

1263, Autumn

Ayrshire, Scotland

 

Caralyn of the Crauford House stilled, shushing her lass of eight summers to silence with a swish of her hand. Laughter echoed across the land—not the happy sound so loved by her clan, but the ribald guffaws of invaders hell-bent on doing their worst. That sound inched up the back of her neck, raising the hairs there.

Norsemen
. Rumors of the pillaging already done by the men on those Norse galley ships had spread through the small coastal villages of Scotland like wildfire, but she had hoped they would somehow miss her small fishing village, tucked away at the edge of her clan. Caralyn peeked out through the fur coverings across her window and saw her worst nightmare—men with torches running up the paths between cottages, hollering in a foreign tongue.

Caralyn whirled to face her daughter and whispered, “Ashlyn, get your sister.”

They tore through the two room cottage for the wee lassie, her beloved wean. “Gracie? Gracie, where are you?” As they stepped into the bed chamber, her blonde haired, blue-eyed daughter waddled toward her, her arms raised in the usual manner to entice her mama to lift her up. At just over two summers, she spoke little, but understood everything.

Caralyn picked Gracie up and moved toward the back door. “Get the sack, Ashlyn.”

They had been warned the Norse could come. King Haakon of Norway, furious at the actions of the Scottish King Alexander III, had sailed up the Firth of Clyde. Rumor had said the enemies were headed to the royal burgh at Ayr, but given the number of longboats and galleys anchored off Arran, they could stop anywhere along the way. Men at war could be ruthless; that much she knew, especially after the tales she had heard about their plundering in other seaside villages. The raven banners of Haakon’s fleet had already been seen off Kintyre, where his men had ravaged the mainland.

Why had Malcolm taken her guards with him the other day? Now they were completely without protection. Caralyn had done what she could to prepare, forcing her daughters to practice hiding over and over. Simply put, the Norsemen would have to kill her first before they touched her lassies.

Ashlyn appeared around the corner, tying the small sack to her waist. “Mama, come with us?”

Caralyn put her fingers to her daughter’s lips. “Shush, love. I will follow as soon as I can. Now do as we practiced. Take your sister and run until you find the rocks, then hide. Do not come out for any reason. I will find you.”

The look of terror in her daughter’s eyes wrenched her gut. Someday, she vowed she would eliminate the fear in Ashlyn’s eyes, but today, she had no choice but to send them ahead without her. She knew what she had to do to protect her bairns. If she were to go with the girls, the Norseman would follow them. Caralyn would draw the attackers away and distract them; she knew what they wanted.

Caralyn knelt and kissed both girls. “Promise Mama. Do you hear me, Ashlyn? Mama could not bear to have anything happen to her sweet lassies.” She pushed them out the back door and followed behind them. “Go.”

As soon as she stepped outdoors, her ears rang from a sharp war whoop. She turned to see a large man with a flaming torch race for her cottage. Only a few had made it this far, but her home could be brought down with a single torch. He touched the edge to the corner of the roof and the thatch roared to life, burning and smoking in a fury.

The man’s gaze caught hers and he grinned before he yelled in exultation, throwing his torch in the dirt and beating his chest as if she were a glorious prize. Aye, she knew what he wanted. She yelled, “Run, Ashlyn. Run!”

Caralyn took off in the opposite direction, hoping she’d caught his attention enough for him to leave the girls and follow her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ashlyn running toward the beach as they had planned. Caralyn fingered her dagger in the folds of the pocket she had sewn into her skirts. A last resort.
Lord, help me be strong, I will fight. I will fight for my girls. Please help me.

Her boots carried her down the path toward the center of the village where the fishermen kept their boats. Was anyone around to help? She glanced over her shoulder and noticed the Norseman had fallen for her plan and chased after her, his long strides bringing him closer every instant. Peeking to her right, she thanked God that her girls could no longer be seen and she prayed they were safe. Ashlyn was a strong lass, as she had been forced to be. The Lord would keep them in his hands.

A large paw grabbed her hair and wrenched her backward. She landed with a grunt and her assailant chuckled. The raw odor of filthy flesh assaulted her nostrils as she glanced up to see the smile on his dirt-encrusted face. She recognized that look. It was an expression of sheer, perverse desire; this man hadn’t been with a woman for so long that sexual need fueled his every move. He craved her body for what it was, a means to an end, with flagrant disregard for her soul and her emotions. Licking the side of her face, he palmed her breast through her wool gown. He was no different than any other man. He wouldn’t stop until he raped her.

So be it. He could do as he wished with her as long as he stayed away from her lassies. She would do anything to guarantee their safety. Rape her, beat her, she could handle anything as long as he didn’t touch her daughters.

One meaty hand clutched a death grip on her arm, and he pulled her up and turned to the side of the path as if looking for a spot to bed her. But he stilled, listening to his surroundings, glancing all around. She guessed he looked for his comrades, but none were visible.

As if having made a decision, he yanked her arm and tugged her behind him toward the coastline. She struggled to keep up as he took an alternate route through a thick group of trees. What in hell was he planning? Caralyn had been able to calm herself when she’d expected to be thrown into the bushes and forced to submit to him. She dreaded his touch, but she understood such a fate. She could handle it. Now she swallowed in an attempt to slow her pounding heart because she had no idea where they were going. The unknown frightened her and she knew not what he was about. His demeanor had transformed, subtly, but enough for her to know his goal had changed. As soon as they broke through the trees onto the vast shoreline, he yelled down the beach to his friends. Caralyn stumbled along beside him, but froze when her gaze settled on their destination, realization smacking her hard between the eyes.

A longboat. He was dragging her to his ship. He wanted to take her on his galley to service all his comrades, too. Not another female was in sight, though she saw one unmoving clump of wool not far away. A shock of hair stuck out from the pile. Who was it, someone she knew? Was she already dead?
Calm yourself, Caralyn, you can beat them, but only if you are in control
. She forced several deep breaths into her lungs, willing herself to relax.

But she couldn’t. A longboat, he was taking her to the longboat, and he would tear her away from her girls. And what would become of her once she stepped onto that ship? They would use her as they saw fit, then toss her overboard. She could swim, but not from the center of the firth.

Never. Never would he get her onto that ship. She had to think and act quickly. She thought of her girls, of Gracie’s big blue eyes staring at her. Who would care for them if something happened to her? They were her life, quite simply. The only thing she valued in this entire world sat hidden between rocks down the beach. Even though she hadn’t been able to provide the best of lives for them, she was determined to change that if she survived this ordeal.

Unleashing the pent up anger for all the injustices she had been dealt, she corralled that fury, directing it toward this one man in front of her. The foreigners could beat her, have their way with her, but she was not leaving her daughters, not now, not ever. They were still quite a distance from the ship, enough for her to fight and get away. And fight she would.

Caralyn screamed and grabbed her dagger from her hidden pocket, sinking it into the brute’s thigh. He bellowed and let go of her arm for an instant, just enough time for her to dart away. She scurried back toward the path, but didn’t make it far before he grabbed her plaited hair, swung her around, and slapped her.

Cheers went up from the galley ship, but no one came to the man’s aid, thankfully. This would be a performance for his shipmates to watch. The lass against the Norseman, and she would fight with everything she had.

“You vile brute, leave me be!” She screamed and clawed, spit and bit. He hit her in the belly, but the pain didn’t sway her. When he looked away from her for a moment to remove the dagger from his thigh, she kicked him in the groin and he crumpled to the ground, losing the knife in the sand. Hoots from the galleys continued. Pivoting, she tried to run, but he grabbed her ankle and she toppled face down into the gravel. He pulled her back slowly toward him, running his hand over her bare leg under her skirts. She flipped onto her back and kicked him in the jaw with her other foot.

He cursed and released her.

Caralyn searched for her dagger in the sand, but didn’t see it. The lout managed to get to his feet and swayed over her. Pushing herself upright, she grabbed the biggest rock she could find and swung it straight at his head. When she connected with his temple and a resounding thud rang out in the air, she hoped he would fall, but instead he stared at her, a low growl tearing through his throat and settling into a furious expression. He picked her up by both arms and tossed her in the air. Unable to catch her fall, she hit the ground at an odd angle, twisting her ankle under her. She screamed in pain as she landed in the dirt. He jumped on top of her, pulled his fist back, set to demolish her face, and the last thing she recalled before darkness enveloped her was Gracie’s sad eyes.

 

Journey to the Highlands
is available in digital form, print, and audio.

Click here:
AMAZON

 

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