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Authors: Suzan Tisdale

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Preface

The following is a sneak peek at my upcoming novel, Ian’s Rose, Book One of The Mackintoshes & McLaren’s Series. It will be live on all vendors on August 26, 2016. For a complete list of my titles, please visit the “Also By Page” in this ebook.

Prologue to Ian’s Rose

March 1356, The McLaren Keep in the Highlands

There is a special place in hell for men like Mermadak McLaren.

Those who had suffered at his hand for too many years to count, celebrated openly and joyfully at the news of his death. Many believed whoever ’twas that took the auld son-of-a-whore’s life should be sainted, made king, or at the very least given his weight in gold as a blessedly deserved reward.

’Twould be no lie to say none would miss him.

As for the whereabouts of Donnel McLaren, the man who had helped the former laird steal, lie, and cheat Clan McLaren to near utter ruin, ’twas anyone’s guess. Hopefully, he was burning in hell right next to the McLaren. There weren’t many who were as vile, cruel, or evil as the two of them. Those few clansmen who remained were content for now to believe evil would never touch them again, or at least not for a very long while.

The McLarens had suffered through a cold, bleak, and harsh winter, living in the old granary, making plans for the future and dreaming of spring. The one thing that kept them going, even at those times when it felt God had forsaken them, was knowing Mermadak McLaren could never hurt them again.

But on this dark, windy night in early spring, Ian Mackintosh’s thoughts were as far away from evil men as they could get. Nay, he was thinking only of Rose, the woman he loved beyond doubt or denial. Never in his life had he met anyone such as she. Quick-witted, wise, and always blunt and to the point when she had something to say. And God’s teeth, she was beautiful. Long, wavy blonde locks that turned gold in the sunlight, blue eyes as bright and vivid as the Highland sky in springtime, and a smile that melted his heart like honey in the sun. Though she was wee, the top of her head barely reaching his heart, she was as mighty as a shield maiden from the north-lands. She possessed a body to shame Aphrodite herself and Ian wanted desperately to discover that secret paradise.

They were alone now, just the two of them, in one of the few rooms of the keep not destroyed by the fire Mermadak had set months before. The rest of the clan — those dedicated souls who had remained behind to brave the harsh winter — were hunkered down in the granary.

“I love ye, Rose, with all that I am.” Ian’s voice was as soft as the smoke rising from the brazier, and just as warm against her skin. “I want ye to be me wife. I want to build a life with ye, if ye’ll have me.”

Looking into those mesmerizing deep blue eyes of his, she had no doubt he spoke from his heart. He held her hands in his, but whose were trembling more was an unanswerable question. Though his grip was gentle, she could not help but think he was holding on for dear life. Her answer, she knew, would either make his heart soar amongst the heavens, or shatter into inestimable pieces. Before she could say aye or nay, they needed to have a very important discussion. A discussion that, in the end, could change both of their lives forever. Either for the better or for the worse; ‘twould be up to Ian.

With all her heart she wanted to shout
Aye! I will marry ye!
Never had she met anyone quite like him, even if she did believe to a certain extent he was like most men, with only three things usually on his mind: food, coin, and loving. Aye, he was interested in those things, but there was more to Ian than that. He adored her, was kind and generous, and she often found him humorous even when he wasn’t intending to be. He was also quite handsome. So handsome in fact that her mind often wandered to lustful and delicious thoughts of what it would be like to share the man’s bed.

Aye, without a doubt, he adored her. He would protect her and love her until he took his last breath on God’s beautiful earth. What more could a woman ask for in a man? Strength, honor, good looks were a welcome change to the men she’d known before the Mackintoshes arrived and changed all their lives forever.

She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves before she could speak. “Ian, I love ye with all that I am as well. I never felt this way before, not even with Almer, me first husband.”

The smile that broke on his face was a blend of relief and pride. Certain that what she was about to say next would make that smile disappear, she burned the image into her memory. Every bit of his handsome face, from the way his full lips were curved upward to the sparkle in his intense blue eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners. The tiny freckle in the corner of his mouth just under his bottom lip that was often hidden, for he typically went days without shaving.

If she were to be struck dead at this very moment, she would die a most happy woman. She could take this beautiful image of him with her to keep her warm and content throughout eternity. But that would have been the coward’s way out of a potentially ugly situation. And Rose was never one to behave as such.

“I fear there is somethin’ we must discuss first, Ian. Somethin’ of great importance.”

Although he continued to smile, his eyes were filled with questions. “Great importance?” He was confident that it was not so important as to change his feelings toward her.

“I can no’ give ye children,” she told him sadly.

As the morning mist evaporates against sunlight, so did his smile, when the reality of her words slowly sank in. ‘Twas not what he expected to hear. “Ye be barren?”

Rose gave a slight shake of her head as she swallowed back tears. “Nay, I can get with child, but I can no’ carry past me third month.”

Ian had never dreamed of having children until he fell in love with Rose McLaren. He hadn’t exactly led the kind of life that would allow for a wife or bairns. Those past encounters with women, now that he reflected upon it, were nothing more than moments taken to meet his physical needs.

But Rose? Somehow, without even trying, she had changed him from a whoring, warring, drinking fool to a man who looked to the future with new eyes. A future with Rose as his wife and the mother of his many children.

Pain and sorrow filled her eyes and he could feel both to his very core, just as deep as if it had been his own personal loss. Possessed with the overwhelming urge to take her into his arms, he pulled her close. They clung to one another for comfort, solace, and strength. “It matters no’ to me,” he whispered against her blond locks with a voice that cracked.

Although nothing was between them but the pounding of their hearts, Ian sensed something hanging in the air, something more she wanted to say but he knew his heart could not bear to hear the words. He’d not give her the chance to tell him she could not marry him.

Swallowing back his disappointment, he set any thoughts of a cottage bursting to the rafters with children aside. “I am one of many sons,” he began, still clinging to her as if she were a mast on a sinking ship. “I’ll never be chief, so I’ve no legacy to build. I’ll no’ need many sons or even daughters. I will be content all the rest of me days if it is just ye and me, alone in a croft, farmin’ the land. As long as I can grow old with ye, spend each morn watchin’ the sun rise with ye at me side and watch it set at the end of the day, me life will be complete, Rose. All I shall ever need or want, is ye.”

Oh, how she wanted to believe him. “But what if ye someday change yer mind? What if ye realize later that ye do want children and I can no’ give them to ye? I could no more bear that than losin’ yer babe.”

Squeezing her more tightly, he pressed a kiss against her head. “Then ye have me permission to remind me of this moment before ye beat me senseless.”

She knew he was using humor in an attempt to assuage her worries, but this time, it did not work. Hiding her damp eyes against his chest, she murmured perhaps the one thing that bothered her most. “I could no’ bear to lose yer child, Ian. ‘Twould be me undoin’. ’Twould be a loss I could never overcome.”

A babe of their own was the one thing she wanted most to give him, but the fear of losing his child was far stronger than that singular desire.

“Wheest, now, me love. Ye and I are neither foolish nor lackin’ in knowledge. We both ken there be ways of enjoyin’ one another as man and woman without the worry of creatin’ a babe.”

Slowly, she pulled away to look into his eyes. He was filled with hope for the future and adoration for her and ’twas as contagious as the ague. After the loss of her last babe, Almer had stopped sharing a bed with her. Not out of anger but out of his love for her. He had known how much the losses had hurt and he refused to put her through such pain again. Even after she had told him there were ways they could love one another without the fear of another loss looming over their heads, he still refused.

Now she was staring into the eyes of a man who wanted to marry her regardless of what she could not give him. Knowing what he did, he still desired her, still wanted to enjoy her as his wife. He would not turn her away.

“Ye be certain?” she asked, out of the need to hear him say it once again, to be certain she had heard him correctly.

A most wondrous, wicked smile lit his face, answering more questions than she had put to voice. “Aye, I be certain.”

Chapter 1 Ian’s Rose
Scotland, May 1356, The Mackintosh Keep, Northern Highlands of Scotland

I
an Mackintosh had inherited
his father’s long and infamous stubborn streak. While that stubborn streak proved a useful skill on the field of battle, it was oft his undoing in other matters. Especially where matters of the heart or his pride were concerned.

Standing in the courtyard next to his older and equally pig-headed brother, Frederick, the two proud — and at times obstinate — men awaited the arrival of long over-due guests. It had been raining almost non-stop for three days and nights, only adding to the somberness of Ian’s mood. Drenched to the bone, sick at heart, he wanted nothing more than to be inside the keep with vast amounts of ale to keep him company.

Torches lined the pathway to the heavy gate and along the upper walls. They sizzled and hissed, fighting valiantly against the steady rain. The flames flickered with the gusting breeze, casting shadows hither and yon. Dancing shadows that at times Ian believed were mocking him.

Whilst Frederick was excited to be awaiting the arrival of his wife’s newly discovered family, Ian was not so exceedingly cheerful. There was much on the young man’s mind. More specifically, there was a woman on his mind. A beautiful woman with hair the color of honey and blue eyes that darkened if she was angry and brightened when filled with delight. Lately, those exquisite eyes were nearly obsidian, filled with sorrow. Sorrow brought on by his behavior.

A woman who consumed nearly every waking thought. A stubborn, confusing, bewildering and beautiful young woman named Rose. And as much as he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, building a future together, it was not meant to be.

Since their return to his family’s lands, he had tried to keep his distance, to stay away from the lovely lass. They had met more than a year ago, when his foolish brother had agreed to marry a young woman he’d met only once. Frederick had offered for her hand within an hour of their first meeting. Ian had done his level best to talk his brother out of it, especially after they had seen Aggie McLaren’s keep for the first time, then again after meeting her father, Mermadak McLaren — may his soul now be burning in the bowels of hell for eternity.

Somehow, the young woman had won Frederick’s heart, as well as every member of their family’s, including Ian’s. In retrospect, Ian’s first impression of Aggie McLaren had been wrong and he could say without hesitation that she was the best thing that had ever happened to his brother.

Rose was Aggie’s dearest friend. The two women had gone through much heartache and hell together.

He and Rose had formed a deep friendship during their time at the McLaren keep, a friendship that grew into something he had not expected. He loved her, and that alone scared the bloody hell out of him. Though he knew she felt the same toward him, had even accepted his proposal of marriage months ago, he felt wholly unworthy of her love. He believed she deserved far better than what he could offer, which was, at the moment, nothing at all. ’Twas why he had broken their secret troth. He had nothing to give her but a lifetime of poverty and: She deserved better.

“Could ye at least
pretend
excitement, brother?” Frederick asked as he frowned at Ian.

Ian’s forced smile made Frederick chuckle. “Why do ye no’ just go ask fer Rose’s hand and be done with it?”

Ian’s smile evaporated in an instant. His brother could not possibly understand his fear or hesitance. Aye, he’d asked for her hand before they had come here and she had happily agreed.

But when they’d arrived on the safe and hallowed lands of his family, he began to realize several things. One, he had no way to support a wife, not on a warrior’s wages. And that was all he was good for: swinging a sword, battles, defending his homeland and his people. Two, there was no way he could give her anything but heartache. He’d not be able to give her lovely dresses such as those Frederick gave his own wife. There’d be no fancy slippers or baubles or fine linens and silks for the woman he loved more than life itself. Nay, he could give her nothing and that was the cold, hard truth.

He could not give her anything other than love.

And sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough.

He would, however, love her until the day he died. There would be no other woman. No one would ever be able to take her place. ’Twas both the easiest and most difficult decision Ian Mackintosh had ever made. But Rose hadn’t seen it that way. She felt betrayed, more than let down, and he could not rightly blame her. But in the end, he knew he had made the right decision. Even if it had left him feeling empty and miserable and as broken as a bit of fine glass thrown against a piece of granite.

As he brooded silently, hating the rain, the night, and for the lot life had given him, a rider approached the gates. The lad bore news that Aggie’s family was several hours away, delayed by the God-awful rain. Frederick was disappointed. Ian was relieved. Now he could go and skulk and drink his misery away.

“I shall go tell Aggie the news,” Frederick said. “And da and mum and everyone else who awaits them indoors.”

Ian shrugged his shoulders, truly not caring about anyone or anything at the moment.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with ye, Ian?” Frederick demanded as they headed into the keep.

Standing in the narrow entryway, they left puddles of water on the stone floor as they shrugged out of their sodden cloaks.

“Ye’ve been in a piss poor mood fer weeks now,” Frederick pointed out. “If ye can no’ find yerself in better spirits before Aggie’s family arrives, I’d appreciate it if ye’d stay away from everyone.”

“’Twill be me pleasure,” Ian said as he bounded down the steps and disappeared from sight.

Frederick stared after him for a long while.
Mayhap if Ian will no’ tell me what is the matter, Rose will.

* * *


T
was
easy enough to locate Rose. As soon as Frederick walked through the door to the bedchamber he shared with his wife Aggie, he regretted his decision to seek her out. The two women sat side by side on the bed and both had been crying. It took no great mental acumen to realize his brother Ian was the source of their tears. His assumption was immediately verified by the angry glare his wife shot at him.

“Yer brother is a c-cad!” Aggie informed him as if he hadn’t been aware of that fact for most of his life. “He’s b-broken p-poor Rose’s heart!”

Frederick’s anger began to flame brightly. Not at his wife, but at his brother. Aggie had suffered for years with a speech impediment, a very profound stutter that he had thought she had all but overcome. The only time it was noticeable was when she was terrified or upset.
I’m going to kill him,
he thought to himself,
fer upsettin’ me wife.

“Aggie,” Rose sniffled, “I asked ye no’ to tell anyone!”

Aggie gave her a reassuring hug. “Aye, but I d-did no’ promise I wouldn’t.”

Frederick took in a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever his wife was about to say. Instinct told him this was no typical lover’s quarrel, but a real and profound heartache. One that his wife felt almost as deeply as Rose.

“What did he do?”

Rose blew her nose into a bit of linen, unable to speak. Aggie took it upon herself to inform her husband of his brother’s cowardice. “Did ye k-ken he had asked f-fer Rose’s hand?”

“Nay, I did no’,” he said.

“He did,” Aggie said as she wiped her own tears away with her fingertips. “When ye were all still b-back on M-McLaren lands. They were t-to marry when ye returned.”

Nay, he was not going to like this at all.

“Two weeks ago, he came to her and broke the troth! And he would no’ give a good reason why!” She’d gone from being hurt to being angry. He could handle an angry wife, but not one who’d been hurt.

“Did he give any reason at all?” he asked.

“Nay, the coward did no’! He simply told her ’twas better fer Rose if they parted ways. Can ye believe he’d do such a thing?”

Letting loose a heavy sigh, he shook his head. “Nay, I can no’ believe such a thing. Ian has never broken his word, at least no’ that I be aware of.”

Rose looked up at him, the anguish in her heart evidenced in her eyes. “One day, we were verra happy and the next, he tells me he can no’ marry me.” She sniffled again and dabbed at her eyes. “I do no’ ken what I did.”

“Ye did no’ do a thing,” Aggie assured her. “The fault lies entirely with that c-coward, that c-cad
he
calls brother.”

He wasn’t necessarily sure why his wife was behaving as though his brother’s behavior was
his
fault, but he wasn’t up to arguing that point. He was cold, soaked to the bone, and tired. “I be terribly sorry fer what Ian has done, Rose. I shall do me best to make it right. I will no’ make ye any false promises, but I will do me best to find out what he’s thinkin’ inside that thick skull of his.”

Rose let loose a very unladylike moan. “Do no’ bother. ’Twill do neither of us any good. He simply does no’ love me anymore.”

“He’s an arse,” Aggie offered by way of consolation.

Frederick couldn’t necessarily disagree with her appraisal of his younger brother.

“Why would he do such a thing?” Aggie asked, looking into her husband’s eyes as if she might find some answer within them.

“I do no’ ken, love. I simply do no’ ken.” If he did, he’d certainly rectify the situation at once. For now, he had to move on to more pressing matters. “Aggie, we’ve received word on Douglas. His arrival has been delayed by the rain.”

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. The wait for the arrival of the man who had fathered her, a man she’d never met, was maddening. Tears of worry filled her gold-brown eyes. He went to her, bent down on one knee and took her hand in his. They had spent most of last night discussing Douglas Carruthers’ impending arrival. She worried and fretted he would not like her any more than Mermadak, the man who had raised her, had. Frederick knew nothing could be further from the truth. “Do no’ fash yerself over it, sweeting. He’ll love ye, of that I am certain.”

“Thank ye, husband.” She smiled at him. “But what are we to do about Rose and yer arse of a brother?”

He chuckled at her tenacity. “I do no’ ken, but I’ll think of somethin’.”

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