Read My Captive Highlander (Highland Adventure Book 7) Online
Authors: Vonda Sinclair
My Captive Highlander (Highland Adventure Book 7) (12 page)
They ran through the rain to the great hall where a grand wedding feast awaited them.
Though Shamus' brothers had teased him mercilessly with plenty of gibes about being a married man and, in effect, still a prisoner, he smiled, ignored them and fed her bites of venison, bread and cheese from their shared trencher. She had never known such bliss was possible.
A traveling band of minstrels had arrived on a galley the day before and were now entertaining them from an elevated platform in the far corner of the great hall. When a new ballad began, the hauntingly beautiful female voice floating through the air caught
Maili's
attention. Except for the singer's voice, a hush fell over the large room. Everyone paused to listen and search out the owner. But in the dimness of the corner, 'twas impossible to make out many details of the lass.
"Saints," Neacal hissed softly, sitting beside Maili.
She glanced at him to find him transfixed, a look of awe on his face such as she'd never before seen.
It seemed everyone held their breaths until the song ended. After a great applause resounded to the rafters, the musicians launched into a lively instrumental gig and everyone resumed eating and talking.
Around midnight, when their clansmen were busy drinking and dancing, Maili and Shamus slipped away from the
céilidh
. Once in her decorated, candlelit bedchamber, Shamus said, "We should've returned to the standing stones for our wedding night."
She snickered. "Are you mad? The rain is pouring down out there."
He grinned. "Aye, mad for you." He slid his arms around her waist, drew her to him and kissed her. She was indeed thankful he was near fully recovered and gaining more strength each day.
When he stripped the clothing from her body, she was glad for the cozy fire in the hearth. Moments later, they were both naked beneath the bedcovers, her body tight against his.
She sighed and pulled him closer. "This is far better than the hard ground."
"Aye." He placed cherishing kisses over her face and down her neck, then lifted up to look into her eyes. "I love you, Maili, and I'm so happy I found you. The galley wreck, beatings, injuries and imprisonment were worth it."
Tears burning her eyes, she shook her head, unable to comprehend all he'd endured. "I'm sorry you went through all that pain. But I'm glad you found me here. No one could ever make me as happy as you do." And truly, she had never been as happy as she was at this moment. "In my heart, I married you that night at the standing stones."
"Aye, I should've realized the same thing, but you are far wiser than I am, my wee fairy lass."
He gave her a soul-deep kiss and she could think no more. Her full attention was on the love that wrapped them in a warm embrace and the hot, delectable sensations he showered upon her.
The sky was clear blue the next morn when the
MacKenzies
, including Shamus, Maili and her maid,
Anora
, boarded galleys to head north to Teasairg Castle. Though Maili was sad to leave her brother and her clan, she was excited to find a new home with Shamus.
After embracing Neacal, she said, "I truly do hope you will be content here, brother."
"I'll do my best." His stormy gaze searched hers. "But more importantly, I hope you'll be happy with your new husband and the
MacKenzies
."
"I'm certain I will. Shamus is a good man."
Neacal nodded. "Send word to me if he becomes otherwise," he said dryly.
She let a small grin slip out. "I don't think that will happen."
Moments later, she bid her brother and her clan farewell and the
MacKenzie
warriors shoved the eight galleys into the loch. Maili had always enjoyed riding in a galley and loved it even more with Shamus at her side.
A fair wind pushed them north at a great pace, and by sunset they were sailing up a beautiful loch. Sunlight played through the mist and clouds as the galleys glided smoothly through the water.
"This is Loch
Alsh
," Shamus said. "And there is your new home, Teasairg Castle." He pointed at a tall gray structure in the far distance she could barely make out.
As they drew nearer, she could see that the castle, surrounded by high walls, sat upon a small island.
"
'Tis
lovely," she said.
"You are the one who is lovely." He slipped his hand into her hair and kissed her lips.
"Control yourself, man," Fraser said behind them. "Only a few more minutes and the honeymoon can begin."
"The honeymoon has already begun," Shamus retorted.
The men around them laughed.
Grinning, Maili covered her burning face with her hands. But in truth, her blood heated when she realized how much she looked forward to joining Shamus in his bed this night.
"I believe I'll hold you captive in my bedchamber for a month or two," Shamus whispered into her ear.
"I shall be your willing prisoner."
***
More stories in this series will be coming soon!
Available now
My Fierce Highlander (Alasdair and Gwyneth)
My Wild Highlander (Lachlan and Angelique)
My Brave Highlander (Dirk and Isobel)
My Daring Highlander (Keegan and Seona)
My Notorious Highlander (Torrin and Jessie)
My Rebel Highlander (
Rebbie
and Calla)
My Captive Highlander (Shamus and
Maili
)
Next in the Series
Highlander Unbroken (Neacal and Anna)
Loch
Moidart
, Scotland, September 1619
Willing the tormenting nightmares not to invade his mind this night, Neacal MacDonald lay in bed and stared into the low-burning hearth fire in his chamber at
Bearach
Castle. He would rather stay awake for all eternity than to revisit the torture he'd endured two years ago.
He had already roamed the castle from the great hall to the ramparts for more than two hours. The night guards thought him mad for not taking to his bed. And he was… he knew that. But they did not see the grisly images which infested his sleep.
After a time, the silence and exhaustion overcame him and his eyelids drifted shut.
A blade glinted from the torch-lit darkness. He jerked to move aside but he couldn't. Constricting ropes bound his wrists and ankles and tore into his stinging flesh. The brute grabbed
Neacal's
hair, yanking it until pain shot through his neck. He held
Neacal's
head at an odd angle while another beast sliced a hot blade down the side of his face. The blinding pain consumed him.
"I'll kill you! I swear it!" Neacal roared, yanking at the ropes. If only he could free himself, he would strangle each of them with his bare hands.
They cursed and called him vile names, but he could no longer comprehend them. Every inch of his body screamed out in pain from their abuse. The deep cuts, the bruises, the broken bones. Surely, this was the darkest pit of hell.
Something wet and warm flicked over his face. He jolted awake, gasping for breath… still in his chamber at
Bearach
, thank God. The Irish wolfhound's bristly fur tickled his face while his tongue washed
Neacal's
forehead.
"Dunn? Saints," he hissed and grabbed the huge dog around the neck. Dunn always dragged him from the grip of the hellish nightmares.
Neacal was grateful beyond words each time he woke to find himself free, instead of back there in
MacRankin's
torture chamber. If only he could forget the past… mayhap then he would be halfway normal. But, nay, he was not blessed with ignorance or a faulty memory. Each night he must relive the torture again… and again.
The wolfhound maneuvered half his seven-foot-long body onto Neacal, washing his face again with his large tongue.
"Aye, I'm awake now, you lapdog." Neacal pushed him back, then ruffled his fur.
Dunn sat on the floor, panting.
'Twas
sad to think the hound was his only close friend or family here at
Bearach
. Certainly, he had uncles, aunts and cousins. But his parents and older brother were all dead. His sister,
Maili
, had married and gone to live with the
MacKenzie
clan.
And his own clan, the
MacDonalds
of
Moidart
, expected a madman to lead them?
"They're more insane than I am," he muttered.
Dunn gave a soft
woof
and stared at him intently.
"Aye, well, I'm doing my best." He had to succeed as chief, for his father's sake. Da would want him to lead the clan.
'Twas
the last thing Neacal could do for a man he'd admired above all others. Grief and regret clawed at his chest again. If only he hadn't kissed a certain lady, his father would still be alive and Neacal would've never been tortured.
Unable to bear it a second longer, he shoved himself from the bed. Sharp pain shot through his left arm and shoulder. Halting, he gritted his teeth.
'Twas
one of the bones which had been broken during his capture. Although it had knitted back together, it still pained him. Muttering a curse, he worked his arm to loosen the muscles, then washed his face in the basin of cold water. He shoved his hair back and dried his face on a cloth.
Hell, he needed to be away from here. Despite being his home from birth,
Bearach
now felt like a prison itself. Confining. Suffocating. He craved the fresh air and expansive vistas of the Highlands and sea. He yearned to climb a mountain… or swim across the loch. Physical exertion was the only thing that quieted his mind. Then, he could rest for a time.
Finding his bodyguard asleep, sprawled against the wall of the corridor, Neacal crept past. Under the cover of the predawn darkness, he slipped out through the kitchens and, using his key, through the postern gate. He carried his usual weapons—sword and dirk, along with a bow and arrows. Dunn trailed him quietly down to the rough edge of Loch
Moidart
.
Neacal filled his lungs with the crisp, salty air. A hint of autumn's drying leaves and pine needles tinged the air. The cleansing freshness loosened some of the tension from his body. The tide slid its way out to sea, and some of the wet sand lay exposed beyond the rocky shoreline. Wanting to leave no tracks, he avoided the sand and walked several hundred feet and around a bend for privacy. He didn't need an audience when he stripped down to his skin for a swim. A hint of dawn light glimmered at the horizon when he and Dunn waded into the cool water.
His clan would be vexed at him for slipping away with no company but Dunn, but he didn't care. The clan council assigned him two personal bodyguards and he endured them most of the time, even though he suspected them of being spies for the elders.
Prior to being inaugurated as chief a few weeks ago, Neacal had lived a solitary existence for over a year and had come to rely on no one but himself and his dog. If some enemy wished to kill him, let them try. He would put up a good fight.
Besides, why would he want someone less capable than himself guarding him? While he'd been on the island, he'd climbed the nearby mountain of craggy stone every day, and each time he did it, he grew faster and faster until he could run up the mountain and scramble quickly over the boulders. Dunn had seemed to relish following him into this no man's land. Some of the nearby mountains were nearly as impressive and rugged. He truly needed a good climb to work out his frustrations.
After his swim, Neacal climbed the steep, rocky hillside in the early morning light but stopped short when he noticed galleys approaching from the sea. Who the devil was that?
Vonda Sinclair is an Amazon Top 100 Bestselling Author whose favorite indulgent pastime is exploring Scotland, from Edinburgh to the untamed and windblown north coast. She also enjoys creating hot, Highland heroes and spirited lasses to drive them mad. Her books have won an EPIC Award, a National Readers' Choice Award, and first place in the historical division of the Winter Rose Award for Excellence in Published Romantic Fiction. She lives in the mountains of North Carolina where she is no doubt creating another Scottish story. Please visit her website to learn more.