The Lass and the Laird Read online

  The Lass and the Laird

  Hildie McQueen

  Pink Door Publishing, Augusta, Georgia 2014

  The Lass and the Laird

  Amazon Bestselling Author

  Hildie McQueen

  Pink Door Publishing

  Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Editor: Scott Moreland

  Copyright Hildie McQueen 2014

  ISBN: 978-1-939356-29-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.

  If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Other Works by Hildie McQueen

  (In reading order)

  Highland Historical Romance

  Moriag Series

  Beauty and the Highlander

  The Lass and the Laird

  Lady and the Scot

  The Laird's Daughter

  Skye Series

  The Wolf of Skye

  The McDougalls,

  Highlander's Captive

  Seducing Her Laird

  Enticing Her Highlander

  Ravished by the Laird

  In the Warrior's Arms

  Highlander

  The Archer

  The Battle

  The Reckoning

  The Storm

  Dedication

  I have a beautiful life, filled with amazing friends and family. I dedicate this book to my wonderful circle of readers who complete my amazing world.

  Chapter One

  Moriag, in the Northeast Highlands of Scotland

  Declan Gordon pulled his horse to a stop to take in the scene before him. Majestic and lush, a heavy misting gave the illusion his new home rested in a heavenly realm. He pulled his tartan tighter to dispel the coolness of the evening air.

  The stone keep was nestled amongst the clouds. At least it seemed so as it sat in a clearing of rich flora with a backdrop of the hazy Highland mountains to its rear and the shore of a loch on its left.

  His childhood friend, Ian, pulled alongside, his massive, gray gelding pawing the ground. "Is that it?"

  "Aye, it is. Our new home. Moriag."

  "Larger than I expected." Ian scanned the surroundings and scowled, his dark blond hair glistening from droplets of light drizzle. "Is it true that a Campbell owns the lands to one side and a McNeil those on the other?"

  "From what my mother always said, clans never fight here. But instead to this day co-exist in peace. Has been that way since my great-grandfather settled in these parts."

  The wind picked up, with it the smell of rain.

  The deeper glower on Ian's face mirrored his own sentiments. After an entire lifetime of constant clashes and an eye over one's shoulder on Gordon lands, it was hard to fathom the thought of peace. Both he and Ian had lived the life of warriors, a sword within reach at all times.

  Was it possible now to live with no wariness about the land’s encroachers, border infringements, stolen cattle, or such? Declan surmised he would find out.

  "Still, I would feel better if we got inside before dark." Declan motioned for the other riders to take the horses to a trot. "I am not sure what to expect, so better to have the advantage of what's left of daylight."

  Once they neared, a lad, who must have been keeping an eye out, sprinted toward the inner courtyard inside yelling at the top of his lungs. "The laird arrives."

  Laird. He was now the overseer of the large keep, lands, and people. Something he'd never dared dream of.

  By the time Declan and his six men brought the horses to a stand inside the tidy courtyard, eight people were lined up with expressions of barely concealed curiosity. Every eye followed his progress as he dismounted and walked to them. Declan ensured to maintain a calm façade although, inside, his stomach flipped and his heart thudded against his breastbone.

  A large woman with rosy cheeks wearing a crisp apron and matching cap, stepped forward, in front of the rest. "Welcome, Laird. I am Pat, your cook and housemistress.” She attempted a curtsy, but it came out more like a bob, being her girth was as wide as her height. "Welcome to yer new home."

  One by one, two lads and three maids were introduced. An older gardener and stable hand were last to make his acquaintance.

  Declan wasn't sure how to address his newly acquired staff. He'd never considered the fact that he'd one day have a keep of his own. As second born, it was not in his birthright. Like most sons without expectation of taking over after their father, he'd concentrated on far less finer pursuits.

  His older brother, Carrick, had been more than generous upon bequeathing to Declan their mother's home after becoming laird of Clan Gordon. A gift he didn't deserve. He pushed away thoughts of guilt at how he'd never tried to be close to Carrick and brought his attention back to the present.

  The small staff waited for him to speak. He inclined his head in greeting and made eye contact with each person. "I am grateful for the warm welcome. Greetings from my brother and his wife." He motioned to his men and introduced them starting with Ian. His men seemed as ill at ease as he felt at the staff's close scrutiny. "Ian is my second, will stand in my stead when I am away. My guardsmen are Dugan..." He introduced each, ensuring the six men were greeted.

  Carrick instructed he must immediately take control and not allow for wavering. The people of Moriag were keen and would sense any failing in their laird. He looked to the older man. "See to it that the horses are stabled, brushed down, and fed." He turned his attention back to Pat. "My men and I require a meal after settling. The guardsmen will sleep in the courtyard rooms. I expect they've been readied." He motioned to the row of neat guard quarters just inside the courtyard. "Ian and I will inhabit two rooms on the second floor."

  "Of course, Laird. All of the rooms have been prepared," Pat assured him with a proud smile. "I have personally inspected each space to make sure all is as it should be."

  The older man stepped up and, before long, he and another lad, who appeared from where he assumed were the stables, guided some of the horses away. Ian and another of his men followed behind them.

  Not surprising to Declan. Ian would never allow another to see to his steed until he trusted the stable hands. And even then, it was doubtful. It was not in Ian's nature and no one challenged him when it came to the care of the beast whose ill temper was legendary.

  The housemistress motioned at two maids and a lad to take his and Ian's bags inside.

  The four remaining guardsmen waited for instruction. "Go see about settling. If you need bathing, the loch is as good a place as any tonight. I suppose after that you can ask for a bath in the kitchens. I'll be in the great room after a bit.” Proper warriors, the men walked away with their horses, seeing about settling the beasts before themselves.

  Feeling odd at being laird, he took in every space as he followed Pat inside the large home.

  The interior was well cared for, fresh rushes on the floors. Colorful tapestries hung on tall, stone walls helped to mute the echoes of their heavy footfalls. Lined up like soldiers in two long row
s, newly built tables and benches gleamed with fresh polish. After garnering a glare from Pat, in whispered tones the lads rushed two tall hunting dogs outside. She gave him a quick nod. "The hounds were left here by yer brother. Said you'd have good use of them for hunting."

  "They are fine dogs. They may be allowed inside at night," he answered and Pat relaxed.

  "Very well, my laird."

  The condition of the hundred year old home astonished him. His brother's wife, Analise, was mainly responsible for the impressive care and maintenance. Although Declan had not known his sister-in-law long, the beautiful woman stunned him with her intelligence and no-nonsense management of a household.

  Declan aspired to such attributes in a wife of his own. Someone who'd not just warm his bed, but share in his interests and manage the home as well. Perhaps it was too forward a way of thinking and most women would balk at the idea. Yet after meeting his husband's wife, he was convinced another like her was a possibility.

  When his stomach growled, Pat smiled at him. "Go upstairs, Laird. We have warm water waiting for ye to wash away the dirt of yer travels. I'll see about the dinner meal in the meantime."

  Declan climbed the stairs to his chamber. A comely maid stood just inside the open door, her eyes darting between him and the tidy space.

  Other than a four-poster bed and a large trunk, there was a stand with a pitcher and bowl, two chairs before a great hearth, and a large tapestry hanging on the wall over it. A window provided some lighting. Being it was close to sunset, two large lanterns were lit, one on a table by the bed and another beside one of the chairs.

  "This is adequate," he told the maid and watched her shuffle crestfallen to help direct the young man who carried his belongings.

  Declan waited until she faced him again. "What I meant to say is that the room is more than satisfactory. Very..." he searched for words as the maid looked to him with expectation. "Very nice. You have done quite well, uh...."

  "Awena." She beamed and bobbed her head. "I am thankful ye are pleased, my laird."

  After the maid and lad left, he was finally alone for the first moment in too many days. Declan stood in the middle of the room attempting to settle his mind. He was not at all sure what to expect of this new, unanticipated start in life. Now he was laird, shouldering the burden of responsibility for not only the people in the small keep, but for the nearby village of Moriag.

  The view from his window was impressive. Past hills and valleys, he spotted the village. It was a good size. Although he could not make out more than the outline of buildings, smoke spoke of activity.

  As soon as possible, he planned to ride there and get acquainted with the townsfolk. The outlying small farms and homes would be next on his list. Thankfully, he'd done most of his now-deceased father's business in the last years, so was familiar with the duties he was expected to perform.

  He removed his dirty traveling clothes and stood nude before the large pewter pitcher and bowl. There wasn't nearly enough water in the vessel to come close to cleaning his entire body so he settled for washing his face, neck, forearms, and between his legs before donning a clean shirt and breeches.

  Once done, he left the room to seek the meal Pat promised.

  The evening meal went beyond his expectations. He called for the cook and praised her in front of the men and other servants. "The meal was delicious. I'd not expected such flavors and am greatly pleased. I thank you." The flustered Pat seemed about to burst with pride as she hurried from the room promising a delicious meal for the following evening.

  The maids hurried to refill his glass, barely giving him time to finish his servings before doing the same to his plate. After two full helpings and plenty of mead, he was more than ready to seek his bed.

  Ian laughed when Declan's eyes widened at a maid who, once again, approached with a tray in hand ready to refill his plate. "Nay, lass, the laird is quite full.” He shrugged and pointed to his own plate. "But I would like a bit."

  "I fear I'll burst," Declan admitted. "But it's so tasty, it's hard to stop eating."

  His friend nodded. "You may have been a bit overly lavish in your praise to Pat. You'll be too heavy to ride if you eat this way every night."

  "Aye." Declan laughed and shook his head. "I have much to learn."

  A bath was ready when Declan returned to his room. The maid, Awena, waited to assist him and Declan hesitated when her eyes roamed his body, her lips pursed in appreciation. As laird, she was his for the taking, but it was not how he planned to start his life as laird.

  "Where is the lad who was here earlier? Edan, I believe. Tell him to come and assist me. He will be my serving man from now on."

  "Yes, my laird." The now solemn maid bobbed and left.

  Declan made a mental note to hire additional staff to assist with the larger household. He expected Ian and his loyal guardsmen to be cared after as well as any visitors.

  An hour later, freshly bathed, he climbed into bed, his eyes already closing. Tomorrow he'd ride out and explore his new lands. Get to know all he could about Moriag. Its village people, the harvests, and the neighboring lairds, all part of his domain now. Making mental checklists, his eyes drooped.

  A thought struck and he looked up at the ceiling. What had possessed him to ask his brother to seek for him a suitable wife within six months? If he didn't find a woman on his own in five months hence, his brother would choose one for him. An arranged marriage was suddenly not desirable.

  As much as he wanted a wife to start a family with, for the time being, he wasn't sure about settling with someone he didn't find desirable. Or worse, a mousy woman who'd only do as he bid.

  There was the added change, he'd never been faithful to anyone, always preferred to seek the company of different women. Each had different gifts to offer, which he enjoyed. A wife would certainly change things.

  As laird he could always have lovers, he supposed. After all, he was a virile man who'd never suffered from bedsport energy. Then again, other than the maid, the town was very small. Perhaps his selection would be limited. This was to be an adjustment in many ways. No longer was he living with a large clan and its readily available lasses.

  Six months.

  A wife.

  He would ponder on this more.

  Morning came with the aroma of food. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and opened them to find Edan placing a tray of food on a table. The young man moved soundlessly, as if with years of practice. Declan allowed Edan to continue the chores and closed his eyes again.

  The boy had been overly excited to learn of his new post. At about ten and five, he proclaimed to be a full-grown man, who'd serve him ‘til his death. The kind of loyalty a laird inspired made him wonder at how his father could have abused the position given to him. The people were eager to please and he would ensure they were all fairly treated.

  Later that day, he and Ian, along with his guardsmen, mounted their horses to start the familiarization with his lands and people. Declan sat straight in the saddle and scanned the area.

  Fruit groves edged a river that ran through the woods. Deer scampered away and they discovered several boar tracks.

  When a rabbit scurried across their trail, Ian shot an arrow at it and missed. "I was not prepared," he explained when the two guards who accompanied them laughed.

  Declan chuckled. "We will not want for food, that is obvious. As long as we don't have to depend on Ian for the hunting."

  Dugan, one of the guards, narrowed his eyes into the forest. "Are ye confident we should not be prepared to draw swords? Someone approaches."

  "Nay. Everyone gets along well here." In spite of his words, a tingle went through his sword arm. Years of training and clan battles did not go away so easily. He had no doubt the other three felt on edge as they waited for the lone rider to approach.

  "Ye must be Laird of Moriag." The older man lifted his bushy brows when both Dugan and the other guard's hands went to their swords. "Do not fret, gentlemen. I do not
mean your laird any harm."

  "Jon Campbell, Laird of Claudaugh." He bowed his head and his dark blue eyes met Declan's. "I knew yer mother. A fine woman. Yer da as well."

  From the hardening around Campbell's mouth the man must not have cared for his father. It wasn't surprising. "I am Declan Gordon, as you seem to already know."

  "Aye, yer brother told me you were coming. You favor each other as well." Campbell looked across to the water's edge. "My land and yours join here. Your men are welcome to hunt and fish as they wish. We've never kept a hard hand on boundaries."

  "Yet here you are to point it out." Declan met the man's eyes, not seeing any type of malice.

  "Aye. I am searching for my dog. He was injured during a boar hunt two days past and has not returned home. I fear he must be somewhere in pain. It's silly of me, of course, but he has been a faithful companion for many years and I have grown quite fond of him."

  "We will assist you in your search." Declan and his men listened to the older man's descriptions and spent the rest of the afternoon in search of a dog they finally found under a bush. The animal was as ecstatic as Campbell upon being reunited.

  The Campbell stood and shook hands with Declan. "I will be pleased to invite you and your men to dine at my keep. You have my allegiance at your simple, but noble, deed." The man's eyes twinkled when he looked down to the dog that sat at his feet holding an injured paw off the ground.

  "We gladly accept." Declan patted the beast's head. "I am sure your dog will heal promptly."

  Once Campbell heaved the large animal across his horse and rode off, it was time to return home. Declan watched the older man go and looked to Ian. “It's quite different, is it not? The simple task of finding the beast may have sealed an alliance with the Campbells.”