The Highlander's Enchantress Read online

  Table of Contents

  Content Warnings

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Get Scandalous with these historical reads… Never Cross a Highlander

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2023 by Violetta Rand. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave

  STE 181

  Shrewsbury, PA 17361

 

  Scandalous is an imprint of Entangled Publishing.

  Edited by Erin Molta

  Cover design by LJ Anderson/Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by Period Images

  olliemt1980/Deposit Photos

  inigofotografia/Getty Images

  ISBN 978-1-64937-558-2

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition May 2023

  At Entangled, we want our readers to be well-informed. If you would like to know if this book contains any elements that might be of concern for you, please check the book’s webpage for details.

  https://entangledpublishing.com/books/the-highlanders-enchantress

  For April Renn and her beloved daughter, Wendy, a true warrior who will never be forgotten and always loved. Go rest on that mountain, and in time, you will all be together again.

  Prologue

  Kali Bane despised her father, even regretted being related to such a beast. His selfishness had cost their family so much—their clan had been dissolved fifteen years ago by order of the Crown because her father had conspired with enemies of the kingdom, though direct evidence against him had never manifested.

  Powers in England had fought long and hard to bring the Highland clans under control—and the shamed man who stood before her had been labeled a rebel and usurper.

  They’d been forced into the lowlands, to take up residence in the only property the king let her father keep, a large manor house with some acreage and a handful of servants who loathed him as much as she did.

  “Father?” she pressed. “Besides sneaking out to lay a wreath of flowers at my mam’s grave, what have I ever done to disobey ye?” There, she’d finally demonstrated a semblance of backbone. Yet questioning the former Laird Bane would come with a price. She knew it. Could see it in his blue eyes that narrowed with contempt.

  “Ye dare question me?”

  She swallowed hard. “Only in defense of myself, sir.”

  The silent standoff that followed only deepened her belief that his anger was building. Bane never held anything in. ’Twas how he’d managed to live so long. In her young life, Kali had known the kind of men who held their rage inside. They’d died younger than they should.

  He struck her with enough force to knock her back several feet. With club-like hands, calloused and scarred from years of swordplay and battle, he could easily kill a man with brute force. She cupped her cheek, the sting of the slap bringing tears to her eyes. But Kali would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She straightened her shoulders and returned to the spot in front of him, staring up at him defiantly.

  He snorted, the rare light of approval showing in his eyes. “Maybe ye have some of my mettle after all.”

  The only thing she’d ever admit to getting from her sire was the color of her hair—red as fire. “We are nothing alike.”

  He nodded. “So I’ve said often enough. If I dinna know better, I’d swear yer mam bedded another man to get with child!”

  Kali shook her head. “I bear yer mark, Father.” She indicated her curly hair. “As do my sisters, Ariana and Keara.” All redheaded with bright blue eyes. A rare characteristic to see in the city. Often, when she passed by people in the streets, she’d hear them say, “There goes another Bane.”

  Some considered her coloring the devil’s mark and avoided her entirely. Others, mostly men, were intrigued and pursued the sisters with wanton aggressiveness; only to be denied any further attention by their father. Nay, he had plans for his daughters, though he’d never revealed them.

  “Two grown women together in the same house is no’ acceptable,” he said. “I will marry Mirtha MacNeil in a sennight.”

  The news did not shock her, as she’d expected him to move on quickly—the final show of disrespect to her beloved mother’s memory. But what did he mean by two grown women in the same house? Surely not… “What are ye saying, Father?”

  “Lord Nelson has offered for ye.”

  She nearly choked. “The Englishman?” If her sire had wanted to steal her breath, he had succeeded. This blow hurt worse than the one he had landed on her face moments ago. As she stared at him, she knew her expression must be one of utter shock, making her appear as helpless and stupid as he accused her of being.

  “Aye.” His satisfaction glared at her through his smile.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined the man she had met only twice. Dark hair with graying temples, a stern brow, unhappy mouth, and blazing eyes, often red-rimmed because he drank too much wine with her sire. “He is too old for me. Please.”

  His wicked smile deepened, curling the corners of her father’s lips upward. “He is a practical choice. And as long as ye remain obedient and please him in bed, ye will be well cared for.”

  She didn’t know the first thing about pleasing a man in bed—only the outcome of doing such, for her mother had paid the ultimate price of doing her wifely duty when she had died in childbirth. Kali could not see herself wanting anything to do with that! Sold into marriage for wealth and power—to a Sassenach lord, no less.

  “Nay!” she refused resolutely. “Anything else.”

  “If ye deny me, Kali, I will make sure ye never have the ability to say nay to me again.” He raised his hand in a threatening manner to reassure her how serious he was.

  She didn’t flinch. A few bruises or lost teeth were better than a life married to a man who had a vein of cruelty like her sire. No wonder the two of them got along so well, though they were born on opposite ends of the isle, sworn enemies by birthright. “Do what ye must, sir. For I willna accept him.”

  He snatched her up by the length of her hair, forcing her head back. “Would ye rather I send ye to North Berwick where King James is on the hunt for witches, after his new wife’s ship was caught in a storm and turned back to Denmark? Remember those who have already been found guilty of sorcery and burned at the stake? I could easily accuse ye of being one of them.”

  Superstitious fools. The king believed Queen Anne had been in danger of drowning at sea. Kali knew better. The offenders were his political opponents. He had needed an excuse to remove them from power and execute them. “Do what ye will.”

  He slapped her again, then shoved her away. “Thankless harlot,” he hissed. “If ye will not submit, then I will punish ye the only way I know how.”

  What could be worse than how she had been living for the last nineteen years? Endless days and nights bled into each other as she worked harder than most servants, forced to cook and clean and cater to her father’s every need.

  “I will banish ye, send ye away from yer sisters.”

  “Nay!” She tried to grab his arm, wanted to beg forgiveness. Her sisters meant the world to her, they were her world, and he knew it.

  “Get away from me, harlot.” He pushed her. “Slinking about in the middle of the night, visiting a graveyard. Probably casting spells. Cavorting with the devil.”

  “Nay!” she cried.

  He gloated at her tears, satisfied he had landed a fatal blow to her spirit. “In the morning, ye shall get aboard a ship bound for Durness. Let the MacKays deal with ye—after all, those Highland heathens owe me for their success in the north.”

  The MacKays? Where had this punishment come from? It seemed as though he had pulled it from the air, but Kali knew him incapable of quick wit. This must have been his plan all along. Separate her from her sisters in order to have time to intimidate Ariana and Keara into doing whatever he wanted.

  He left her alone, weeping in the courtyard.

  Ariana and Keara. Dear Lord. She was their shield. Their protector. How could they survive Bane’s fury without her? She dropped to her knees, her legs too wea
k to hold her up any longer.

  Someone slipped out the door and came to her, lifting her from behind. “Come, milady,” Anne’s soothing voice sounded. “If ye are to go on an adventure, I will help ye pack.”

  The faithful maid walked her inside and up the stairs to her chamber. Through the blur of her tears, she looked about her room, wondering what she could do to change her sire’s mind.

  “Nay,” Anne said quietly. “If ye help me now, I believe he’ll kill ye.”

  Kali caressed the maid’s cheek in gratitude. “Promise to watch over the girls.”

  Anne nodded. “Ye have my word, mistress.”

  ’Twas the only hope she had to cling to. “Thank ye, Anne.” Kali swore by everything holy, she’d find a way to rescue her sisters, no matter what she had to do.

  Chapter One

  As soon as Kali’s feet hit solid ground after weeks at sea, she wanted to kneel and thank the Almighty for delivering her safely to Durness. With the storms and turbulent waves that had caused the ship to roll endlessly during the voyage, she’d been unable to eat much.

  She breathed in the salty, moist air, so different from her home in Aberdeen where the stench of city-dwelling overwhelmed the pleasant smells of nature. As she gazed across the open fields and hilly landscape beyond the village, she smiled at the sight of sheep and cattle roaming freely in the tall grass.

  Even the wind seemed different here, scented with heather and other fragrances borne from the carpet of pink and purple wildflowers that covered the land. Durness was not a principal village, but the thatched-roof cottages were clean and welcoming, windows facing the water. The market bustled with merchants and craftsmen, each competing for the attention of passersby.

  Her only trunk had been safely set aside on the dock, meant to be claimed by whatever MacKay kinsman had been sent to collect her. Until that time, she intended to explore the village, for she had been deprived of freedom all her life.

  She reached under her wool cloak and checked for the leather bag of coins Anne had sewn there. When her fingers met the soft material, she breathed a sigh of relief. ’Twas money Kali’s mam had given her to save so that, one day, she might have something for herself. Dreams are more than a lass’s fanciful thoughts, her mother had often said. It takes silver to make them come true.

  Until this moment, Kali had never realized her dreams—other than keeping her sisters together and safe. She sniffled at the thought of them alone in that house with their sire. But there was nothing she could do from here.

  Curious at the wares she might find in the market, she sauntered toward the first booth, where fresh meat pies and small loaves of bread were on display. Her mouth watered, weeks of food deprivation finally catching up with her. Aye, she could eat a horse if offered one, but she’d settle on the golden-crusted delicacy before her.

  “What is this one?” she asked softly to the man smiling at her.

  “Mutton and turnips,” he said. “Would ye like one?”

  Two or three, actually. “Aye.” She gave him a copper coin and welcomed the warmth of the pastry in her hands. As she began walking again, she bit into the soft goodness, flavor exploding on her tongue. When she finished eating, she was thirsty and sought a cup of cider or watered-down ale. Found at another stall, she chose cider and drank it down.

  She noticed bolts of colorful fabric, a smithy shop, and just about anything one might want to buy. There was even a place where men were looking over sheep and horses, which intrigued her. Whether because of the wee beasties or how the men chattered together, she didn’t know.

  Though the place was noisy, peace surrounded her, and she took a deep, satisfying breath.

  “Kali Elizabeth Bane?” a low voice asked.

  She cringed, expecting a heavy hand to yank her around, for that’s what her father would have done had he found her wandering about. When nothing happened, she risked a glance over her shoulder and found a somber-looking man, devastatingly handsome, who seemed taller than a house. His green eyes searched her face for something she couldn’t guess.

  “I am Kali Bane,” she confessed, and the man nodded.

  “I am Adam MacKay. Here to fetch ye.”

  They gazed at each other in awkward silence.

  “I expect my father sent a missive ahead of my arrival.”

  “Aye, how else would we know ye were coming?”

  Her cheeks heated at the dim-wittedness of her words. Could it have been any more obvious? “I-I am sorry,” she said, “if I appear unsettled, ’tis only because of the long voyage. I doona have worthy sea legs, I fear.”

  “I have yet to meet a lowlander who does.”

  Another veiled insult, but she couldn’t blame the stranger for finding her lacking in endurance or whatever else Highlanders prized as superior characteristics in a man or woman. “I was born in the Highlands, sir.”

  His eyebrows hitched. “I am familiar with yer family’s history,” he said as he took her arm and ushered her in the opposite direction she had been going. “If I can give ye any advice to protect ye, doona share yer personal story with anyone. ’Tis better to forget the House of Bane.”

  What? “Wait!” She shrugged out of his grasp and halted in her tracks. Though his words offended her, there was something appealing about his eyes. Why would she even consider him charming when he had insulted her intelligence, then laughed at her? “What kind of thing is that to say?”

  He raised his head heavenward and blew out a breath. “The truth.”

  She crossed her arms. “Whose truth?”

  He stared at her, obviously wishing he could be anywhere else but here with her. “The only reason ye are here is to pay an old debt my sire owed to yer father. They are verra distant cousins,” he emphasized, “and now that we have taken responsibility for ye, we consider that debt satisfied.”

  “What debt, sir? And if ye’d rather not take me in, I am sure I can make me own way. I am good with a needle and can cook better than any maid. I am not unaccustomed to hard work, though small I may be.” Her mother had called her slight and graceful.

  His intense gaze took her in. “The only strength I see is in yer mouth, that defiant tongue yer father was sure to warn us about.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “Ye know nothing about me. How dare ye make assumptions.” How dare he possess such a tempting mouth—a smirking one at that—that she suddenly wanted to kiss. All men, she feared, were egotistical and self-serving. But she could not deny this one’s physical appeal—arse that he was.

  “Are ye calling yer da a liar?”

  “My sire is many things. And his truth is very different than the facts.”

  She had the scars inside to prove it. A shattered heart that she’d barely managed to put back together. What remained was meant for the man she hoped to fall in love with one day. And her future children—of which she wanted a dozen.

  “We can stand here all day haggling about what is true or no’,” he said. “Or we can make our way to the horses and ride home.”

  She looked over his shoulder in the direction of the water. “What horses?”

  He pointed. “A half-mile from here.”

  “And what about my trunk?” Everything she valued in the world had been wedged inside it.

  “My men already claimed it for ye. When I dinna find ye at the dock, I came here.”

  “Is this a MacKay village?”

  “’Tis part of our holdings.”

  Then nothing in this village would go unnoticed by his clan, including her trying to find a place to work and live. Unfortunately, her mother had been an English noblewoman who’d fallen in love with a bloody Scot. The marriage had not been sanctioned by her maternal grandfather, thus dividing the family forever.

  She couldn’t live as a commoner even if she wanted to, for her father would never allow it, even though he hated her. Impressions meant more to him than his daughters. And if she dared venture out in the world on her own, he’d hunt her down and kill her for dishonoring the Bane name.

  “Lass,” Adam said. “The choice is yers.”

  “What choice?” ’Twas nothing more than a veiled threat! Go with him quiet and compliant or get forcibly carried away. “Ye have a verra underhanded way of presenting me with a choice.”