Table of Contents
The Highlander: “Great characters, story, & a hot Highlander! I really enjoyed THE HIGHLANDER and look forward to more books in this series — especially Gunnolf’s story and Allison’s.”~~Miranda, Fresh Fiction
Her Highland Hero
PUBLISHED BY:
Also by Terry Spear:
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgements
The Highlander: “Great characters, story, & a hot Highlander! I really enjoyed THE HIGHLANDER and look forward to more books in this series — especially Gunnolf’s story and Allison’s.”~~Miranda, Fresh Fiction The Highlander: “Adventure, danger, intrigue, deceit, passion, romance and love set against a backdrop of the rolling hills of Scotland make this story unforgettable.” –Dottie, Romance Junkies Highland Rake: “Highland Rake is a sure pleaser of an adventure. Yes, it has sexy Highlanders, some terrific Scottish brogue, some sword fights, quite a few surprises and a satisfying happy ever after, but it’s the romance that is the star of the novel.”~~Xeranthemum, Long and Short Reviews Her Highland Hero: “I fell in love with Isobel and Marcus because she was one determined woman, and he was one very receptive Highlander. This spirited lass would wed no other Highlander, no matter the danger or obstacles. A very vivid Highland Romance that makes you want more from Terry Spear.”~~Maria McIntyre Her Highland Hero: “An absolutely delicious tale, HER HIGHLAND HERO, penned by bestselling author Terry Spear, is an enthralling, sensual historical romance that takes readers along on a fascinating adventure, transporting them into the Highlands of yesteryear for an exciting romp across Scotland.”~~Dottie, Romance Junkies
Her Highland Hero
Terry Spear
PUBLISHED BY: Terry Spear ISBN-13: 978-1-63311-000-7
Her Highland Hero Copyright © 2014 by Terry Spear All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Discover more about Terry Spear at: http://www.terryspear.com/
Also by Terry Spear: The Highlanders Series: Winning the Highlander’s Heart, The Accidental Highland Hero, Highland Rake, Taming the Wild Highlander, Her Highland Hero, (2014), The Viking’s Highland Lass (2014) Other historical romances: Lady Caroline & the Egotistical Earl, A Ghost of a Chance at Love Heart of the Wolf Series: Heart of the Wolf, Destiny of the Wolf, To Tempt the Wolf, Legend of the White Wolf, Seduced by the Wolf, Wolf Fever, Heart of the Highland Wolf, Dreaming of the Wolf, A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing, A Howl for a Highlander, A Highland Werewolf Wedding, A SEAL Wolf Christmas, Silence of the Wolf, Hero of a Highland Wolf (Aug, 2014), A Highland Wolf Christmas (Oct, 2014); A SEAL Wolf for Sale (April, 2015), A Silver Wolf Christmas (Oct 2015) Heart of the Jaguar Series: Savage Hunger, Jaguar Fever, Jaguar Hunt, Jaguar Pride (Feb 2015) Heart of the Cougar Series: Cougar’s Mate, Call of the Cougar (2014) Vampire romances: Killing the Bloodlust, Deadly Liaisons, Huntress for Hire, Forbidden Love Romantic Suspense: Deadly Fortunes, In the Dead of the Night, Relative Danger, Bound by Danger Further broken down into wolf pack series: SEAL Wolves: To Tempt the Wolf, A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing, A SEAL Wolf Christmas Silver Bros Wolves: Destiny of the Wolf, Wolf Fever, Dreaming of the Wolf, Silence of the Wolf, A Silver Wolf Christmas (Oct 2015) Highland Wolves: Heart of the Highland Wolf, A Howl for a Highlander, A Highland Werewolf Wedding, Hero of a Highland Wolf, A Highland Wolf Christmas
Blurb
Her Highland Hero
Lady Isobel is a Norman laird’s daughter, living near the Scots border where her father, Lord Pembroke, is trying to keep the peace. But her mother was a Highlander and the man Isobel loves most of all is Laird Marcus McEwan, who has been bringing news of her mother’s people for years. But now Isobel’s father wishes her wed to an English nobleman, who will carry on his title. Isobel will wed no other man but her heart’s desire—and that is one braw Highlander from her mother’s homeland.
Laird Marcus McEwan has loved the feisty lass forever. For years, Marcus has tried to convince Lord Pembroke to allow him to wed his daughter. But the Norman lord will not allow it. Then ambushes and murders make it too dangerous for Marcus to reach a peaceful resolution.
Nothing goes as planned and keeping the lass for his own is fraught with danger, as they try to determine who was behind the killings. Isobel and Marcus will do everything in their power to ensure they are together as they have always vowed they would be.
Dedication
Thanks so much to Mandy Owen for your friendship and for all you do! May your world be filled with romance forevermore!
Chapter 1
“He is already here, my lady!” Jane said breathlessly as the knight’s daughter burst into Lady Isobel Pembroke’s chamber in Torrent Castle, her dark hair plaited against her head, her dark brown eyes alight with excitement. She quickly curtseyed. When Jane saw Isobel’s maid, Mary MacArthur of Isobel’s mother’s Highland clan, give her a disdainful look, Jane flushed bright red and lowered her head a little.
“How do you know this?” Isobel asked, certain Jane couldn’t have seen this for herself—not as far as the loch was from the castle.
“Oh, my lady, Sir Travon said a farmer had sent word that the Highlanders were near the loch.”
Jane was seven and ten, two years younger than Isobel. She enjoyed Jane’s company because she was just like Isobel loved to be—wild, impulsive, and adventurous. When Jane wasn’t helping with the sewing, she would spend time talking to Isobel about the knights she was interested in.
“Good.” Isobel smiled, gladdened that she would see Marcus again. Too much time had passed since the last. Nearly a year, in fact. And she couldn’t help worrying that a Highland lass would catch his fancy. That she would appeal more because she lived near him and he would see her so much more frequently.
Isobel had worked the notion up in her mind so much, that she fretted that one of these days, he wouldn’t return.
Eight knights served Lord William Pembroke, Isobel’s father, some of whom had manors of their own on the land surrounding Torrent Castle. Near there, the small village of Ancroft had built up close to the Scots and English border. Skirmishes between the Scots and English erupted from time to time, which was why King Henry wanted some of his loyal Norman lords living near the border. Marcus McEwan’s lands were in the Highlands and adjoined the MacArthur’s. His family had known her mother’s, which was how Isobel knew him. And loved him.
Her brown eyes wide with intrigue, Jane said, “I am so eager about the dance. Are you not also, my lady?”
“To see Marcus, aye.” Isobel didn’t want to dance with the English lords that her father hoped she’d consider favorably and choose one to wed. She only wished to dance with Marcus, whom she had known since she was one and ten. She intended to wed him and no other man, if she had her way. Which she planned to.
Constant trouble between the Scots and English dictated that Lord Pembroke have a ready force of men whenever necessary. But the border region had been blissfully quiet for a fortnight. Isobel prayed it would remain so forever. On
ly once was she unable to see Marcus when the fighting had broken out, and it had been too dangerous for him to cross the border without him getting embroiled in the fight.
Mary said, “Och, lass, you get your hopes up every time he comes, and I love seeing him myself, but you ken ‘tis folly. Your da willna allow you to marry the Highlander.”
Isobel would not hear of it. She loved him. Had always loved him. Would always love him. Just as her father had loved her Highland mother.
She let out her breath in exasperation as she attempted to sit still while Mary plaited her hair. Her own red hair properly pinned atop her head, Mary narrowed her green eyes and her mouth pursed in concentration as Isobel watched her comb her hair in front.
“You know ‘tis a waste of time for you to put my hair up right before I ride to the loch,” Isobel said. She gave Jane a brilliant smile, telling her in a silent way she was delighted to hear the news that Marcus McEwan was near there.
“You shouldna be riding to the loch to see the Highlander before the dance.” Mary was her mother’s age, just as slender, and usually just as cheerful as she had been. Mary had been like a mother to her since her own had died.
For now, Isobel wanted her hair left down to please Marcus, her long dark curls tossed in the breeze, not pinned to her head like some prim and proper lady. Not that Marcus hadn’t seen her both ways, but she was sure he delighted in seeing her as she truly felt in her heart… adventurous, fun-loving, wild, and free.
She couldn’t help herself. Ever since she’d seen him when she was but a young girl, he’d been trying to garner her attention. And she…his.
Although she had to admit, the way he tried to catch her eye when he was a lad was much more humorous than it had been for some years. Before, he’d do anything to make her smile. Now, his attention was that of a man’s.
Oh, how she loved the braw Highlander, his boldness as he’d regard her with his discerning gaze, and how she wished he’d touch her with his hands in the same places and not with just his eyes.
She was supposed to behave like a Norman earl’s daughter, stuffy and highborn, her chin raised high as she looked upon the Highlander. She was supposed to treat him as though he was beneath her.
But she hadn’t and wouldn’t. He was the man she’d always wanted to wed.
She’d dreamed of what it would be like giving in to the Highlander’s heated interest, to see how he turned his lustful thoughts into actions, to feel his hard body pressed against her soft curves.
Her face and throat and shoulders warmed at the notion.
She’d been far wilder than her father would have liked, if he’d known, if he’d seen her climbing trees, catching fish, or hunting with her bow.
Horrors, she’d even participated in mock sword fighting down by the loch with two of Marcus’s cousins while he’d watched, a small smile playing on his kissable mouth as he’d leaned against a tree.
“Do you no’ want to fight the lass?” Rob, his cousin had shouted. He was dark-haired, but not quite as dark as Marcus, a little taller, with swimming blue eyes.
She remembered it as if it was yesterday. The summer warming the glen. The smell of wet grass and fish in the loch. A soft breeze caressing her hair, tossing it about as she swung a wooden sword at Rob. They would not risk fighting her using real swords.
She thought Marcus would step up to the challenge. Instead, he had folded his arms across his chest, his blue eyes smiling back at her as she’d caught his hot gaze. His black hair had been windswept and he looked rugged and indomitable with his sword at his side, and his sgian dubh tucked in his boot.
“Nay,” he said, his voice throaty and dark. “The lass is made for loving, no’ fighting. I prefer to watch.”
His cousins had laughed, teased him for saying so, and yet, that was when she realized the change in him. He was no longer a lad with boyish interests, but a man who knew what he wanted.
Bringing her thoughts winging back to where she was now, Isobel winced as Mary accidentally pulled her hair while she tried to pin another section up.
“Mary,” Isobel said in exasperation, “if you are trying to keep me from seeing Marcus before the dance, it will not work!”
Mary stopped fixing her hair and Isobel swore a faint shimmer of tears clouded her eyes.
The Highland woman had served her mother for as long as Isobel could remember. She was sweet and gentle, but firm. Though she too had a liking for Marcus and his kin, she’d warned Isobel time and again that her father would never allow her to wed him and Mary feared it would break Isobel’s heart.
Isobel quickly rose from her bench and gave Mary a warm hug, loving her from the bottom of her heart. “Do not fret, Mary. My father loves me. He would not keep me from my heart’s desire. I will change his mind.”
Her father adored her. Probably because she reminded him of her beloved mother. She was certain that he’d come around, given time.
Mary shook her head. “Lady Ciarda encouraged your wildness since you are half Highland lass, and she would not deny you that part of your being which needed to be set free. Much like your own dear mother had been when she was your age and younger. Except your mother was a Highland lass through and through. But you will marry an English nobleman, and he will object most strongly to this kind of behavior.”
“I know you worry about me. You have naught to concern yourself with. I wish to ride as I always do before these affairs. Do you wish to come with me?”
Jane grinned and nodded though Isobel had directed the question at Mary.
Mary tsked. “If your da learns you are riding beyond the castle walls before the guests arrive, he willna be pleased.”
“He is too busy to pay any attention to what I am doing. And, as I have said, I always do this. Will you go with me?”
Giving up, Mary raised her hands in defeat. “Aye. We must return early enough so I may repair your hair.”
“I will have horses saddled and meet you in the inner bailey.” Isobel rushed off, cloaked in wool, racing through the keep, tearing outside to the stables, chiding the groom readying her horse and Mary’s for being so slow. Although he grinned the whole time, knowing whenever her father forced another dance on her, she had to leave for a while so she could handle the long night successfully.
Mary rushed down to join her, Jane following her, looking eager to go with her also. Isobel only wanted to be alone with Marcus, but she knew she couldn’t be.
“Ready a horse for Jane as well,” Isobel said.
Jane’s smile couldn’t have stretched any further.
“My lady,” a knight said, hurrying across the bailey to help her mount. Sir Travon didn’t look pleased that she was planning to ride. But he didn’t say anything.
The last time someone spoke to her father against her, the man was relieved of his position.
So those who served her father kept their counsel when they considered speaking to him about her behavior. She was above reproach. Except for her wicked thoughts about Marcus. No one would ever know about them though.
Once the ladies were mounted, five of her father’s knights hurried to join them. They would keep their distance, but offer protection if needed.
She and her escort rode out of the outer bailey through the gate and headed for the path she knew Marcus and his cousins would take, although his cousins would not accompany him into the keep because her father would not permit it. He only allowed Marcus to attend the parties as it was his mother’s dying wish. So Marcus’s cousins would stay at the tavern in a nearby village across the border until Marcus rejoined them.
A couple of miles away from the castle, she saw Marcus and two of his cousins, Rob and Finbar. Her heart soared.
Grinning too broadly when she knew it wasn’t ladylike in the least, especially not for an earl’s daughter, and riding like a hellion, which was also something her father would strongly disapprove of, she raced to meet Marcus.
He and his cousins were smiling, but not as broadly
as she, more amused, she thought. She slowed her horse’s gait, worried that she was being too forward, when Marcus did not hurry to meet her. He had grown into a tall and powerfully-built Highlander, serious at times, irresistibly appealing and intriguing at all times.
But what about her? Did he think she was still nothing more than a wild girl?
He’d never once attempted a stolen kiss. Never once held her hand or scandalously took her out of sight of his kin or Mary to be alone with her. She knew he was a man of the world, not isolated like she had been. What did he really think of her? That she was still too young for him? Or not at all suitable? Just amused at a young girl’s interest in him?
She wasn’t a young girl any longer. Old, in fact, at the age of nine and ten.
She’d passed up suitors by the dozen. All because she’d lost her heart to one braw Highlander. If she had any say in it, she was not giving him up. Unless, he didn’t want her. That notion made her heart sink like a stone tossed into the loch.
Her skin burning with chagrin, she lost her smile, pulled her gaze from Marcus’s, and kicked her horse. At a gallop, she rode right past the three men and on toward the loch.
“Isobel!” Marcus snapped, sounding annoyed, in charge, and…surprised.
Good. He was not in charge of her, no matter what he might think. Mayhap doing the unexpected would draw him out of his complacency toward her.
She thought she heard him curse, and then the sound of hooves beat the road behind her as the men taking chase spurred her on.
She wasn’t running away from them. She was riding like she’d intended. To feel the cool wind on her face and tugging at her hair. Already tendrils were falling over her shoulders swept back like her horse’s mane and tail. She wished to be free of the stuffiness of the castle and all the people she’d have to socialize with in just a couple of hours and throughout the long night. To enjoy the woodland surroundings like she’d always done.