A Flawed Scotsman (Clan Ross Book 4) Read online

  A Flawed Scotsman

  Clan Ross

  Book Four

  Hildie McQueen

  © Copyright 2020 by Hildie McQueen

  Text by Hildie McQueen

  Cover by Dar Albert

  Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

  P.O. Box 7968

  La Verne CA 91750

  [email protected]

  Produced in the United States of America

  First Edition September 2020

  Kindle Edition

  Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

  All Rights Reserved.

  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.

  License Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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  Dearest Reader;

  Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.

  Happy Reading!

  CEO, Dragonblade Publishing

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen

  Clan Ross Series

  A Heartless Laird

  A Hardened Warrior

  A Hellish Highlander

  A Flawed Scotsman

  The Lyon’s Den Connected World

  The Lyon’s Laird

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  The bright sun and clear sky did little to cheer Ruari Ross that morning as he collected items that he’d take on the short trip. Facing the past was something most could do without much thought. In his case, however, it meant revisiting the reason for losing his family.

  He trudged from his rooms beside the stables to the main house to break his fast, admittedly prolonging each moment before his departure.

  Once inside the great room, the joviality of the people inside grated at him and he sat at a back table hoping to eat without being bothered.

  A maid hurried to him, placing a platter of food before him, her body much too close, pressing against his side as she leaned forward. “I will fetch ye some ale.”

  He thanked her and began to eat. The sooner the trip was over and done with, the faster he could get to the routine of his day. His life was monotonous, not much different from one day to the next since the battle of clans had ceased. To Ruari, it was fine. He preferred predictable.

  For someone like him, a path clear of obstacles meant he could keep away from too many complications. One day, he’d marry a woman from the clan, perhaps build a home and start a family. It would be on his terms, with a woman that was loyal and devoted.

  However, if fate decided he should remain alone, the idea did not bother him in the least.

  *

  “I do not want yer charity.” Ruari’s mother peered down at the sacks of food and grain he’d brought. “We are well enough to provide for ourselves.” She picked up a small sack of coins he’d placed on top of the sacks and weighed it in her palm.

  The house was unkempt, the rushes old and smelly. It was the home he’d never been welcome to or had ever lived in. After his father disappeared, his mother had insisted on moving away from Ross Keep. The late laird had gifted the home to her and Ruari.

  However, she’d refused to take him and snuck away without a word, leaving him behind to be raised by his uncle and aunt.

  Ruari did his best not to allow bitterness to take hold in his heart as he met her cold gaze. Did she really not care for him one bit?

  “Where is yer husband?”

  She looked away, past him to the doorway. An obvious invitation to leave. “He is gone hunting.”

  “That is what ye said last time I was here.”

  Her lips curled into a snarl. “What do ye want? To gloat? Coming here pretending to care for me when it is all a show for them.” She motioned outside. “Do not come here again. I prefer not to see ye ever.”

  The fact his mother did not love him was not new. For years, he’d tried to gain something from her, at least a small amount of affection, but had failed. Now, he did his duty to see about her and ensure she had food and coin.

  “Ye should leave,” she said in a tired voice. “I do not need the constant reminder of the man who abandoned me.”

  His mother claimed that because she’d become pregnant and given birth to Ruari, his father had left them. He’d yet to make up his mind about it. At first, when he was a young lad, he’d believed her, felt guilty. Now, as a man and studying her, he wondered why his father had married her in the first place.

  Despite the fact that his uncle had insisted that it had nothing to do with him and was, in fact, a problem between his parents, he never would really know the truth. Over the years, he’d overheard mumblings. Elders who whispered that she’d, in fact, killed his father. After all, Conor Ross vanished suddenly and had never been seen or heard from again.

  There were so many unanswered questions, but Ruari had stopped bringing up the subject long ago. His mother would fly into a rage, accusing him of spreading rumors about her when, in fact, she was the victim of the cruelty of life.

  Now, her second husband was gone. He, too, had not been seen in an entire season.

  “Ensure to send word if ye need anything.” Ruari met his mother’s gaze for a long moment. “Take care.”

  She looked away, effe
ctively dismissing him.

  Riding back to Dun Airgid, Ross Keep, where he’d lived since childhood, Ruari did his best to keep from allowing the encounter with his mother to affect him. And yet a lump formed in his throat that made it hard to swallow and his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

  It would be better to send someone else in the future and not subject himself to his mother’s hatred. But perhaps it was his penance if he was truly the cause of his family’s demise. Whether innocent or not, if he’d not been born, perhaps his parents would have remained together.

  When Dun Airgid came into view, Ruari pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted. He walked slowly, pulling his steed along. “Sometimes I envy ye,” he told the horse. “Ye do not have to wonder what yer birth caused.”

  Feeling foolish, he wiped the sleeve of his tunic across his face. He was a grown man. Taller and more muscular than most. And here he was sulking like a child over how his mother treated him.

  *

  “Since we were young, ye’ve always loved to be around animals,” his cousin, Ewan Ross, mused, his gaze moving from the horse to Ruari.

  Ruari nodded. “I have, but sometimes the unruly ones like this one make me wonder why.” He tugged the strap he’d tied around the huge beast’s snout and neck. The horse pulled backward and pawed the ground in warning.

  “Fine,” Ruari barked and released his hold on the strap. The angry horse shook its large head, its mane waving about its head and then it galloped in a circle around the enclosed corral.

  “That horse will eventually be a great warhorse.”

  By the incredulous look on Ewan’s face, he didn’t believe him. Ruari smiled. He loved a challenge and, eventually, this particular horse would be his mount.

  Although both he and the horse were stubborn, Ruari was sure that, eventually, he’d win the beast over.

  They walked to the guard training area just as the daily practice ended. In groups of threes and fours, sweaty men dispersed and headed to either their homes in the village or to the guard quarters within the keep. The ones who lived in the keep would soon be washed up and at last meal, more than ready to fill their bellies with hot food.

  The laird, Malcolm Ross, motioned for Ruari and Ewan to come with him. He and Ewan exchanged looks and followed their cousin. Usually too busy for more than a few words, most days, Malcolm hurried from sword practice to greet villagers and visitors for any last minute business before inviting them to stay and eat.

  Already in the great hall, servants rushed about preparing the tables and ensuring all would be ready for last meal. They barely stopped in their duties to notice the group of warriors as they walked through the room and then down a side corridor to Malcolm’s study.

  Every time Ruari entered the study, with its tapestried walls and shelves that held tomes and various gifts from other lairds, he expected to find his uncle at the front. The recent horrible killing of Robert Ross had yet to seem real.

  They were joined by Malcolm’s brother, Tristan, and the head of the archers, Naill Hay. It was unusual to meet more than once a day to discuss what was happening in the clan. Most days, they’d spend at least an hour in the morning ensuring every aspect was covered. However, from time to time, Malcolm would call a second meeting if something was amiss.

  Ruari went over his duties mentally, deciding to bring up the fact that they were low a few warhorses. There was a breeder not too far to the south and he intended to go himself with a group so that he could pick the best ones.

  “We will be sending a group of guardsmen in a sennight to replace the men at the northern border,” Malcolm began and looked to Naill. “Do ye have an idea of who must go?”

  Naill nodded, his long hair falling over his face. “I will go with a party of twenty archers and relieve Kieran and his men.”

  “What about ye?” Malcolm asked his brother, Tristan, who headed the warrior contingent of the clan’s large guard unit.

  “I’ll be sending twenty or five and twenty as well. I have a few volunteers, others I will assign based on the last time they’ve gone.”

  Ewan lifted a hand. “I’ll go and help at the border. May as well make myself useful in some way.”

  Everyone looked from Ewan to Malcolm.

  Malcolm’s right eyebrow rose. “So ye prefer going to the frigid north rather than returning home to the seaside. Interesting. I am curious to know who the wench is that sent ye running.”

  When everyone laughed, Ewan scowled. “I needed a change of pace, to decide what to focus upon. As third born, I have nothing to cause me to go back. My coming here has nothing to do with a woman.”

  When scanning the room, Ruari could see no one believed Ewan.

  “There is another matter that must be discussed,” Malcolm said while pulling a parchment out. “A messenger brought this two days ago. I’ve been mulling over what to do about it.”

  “What is it?” Ewan asked, always the impatient one.

  Malcolm let out a breath. “It is a request from Laird Fraser, head of the small clan just south of here. He asks for an alliance.”

  “I do not see any problem with it. Is there?” Tristan asked.

  “I am prepared for an agreement between the clans. There is a threat from the Mackenzie that has them on edge. As we are all aware, Laird Mackenzie wishes to take over every clan in this area, looking to grow his territory,” Malcolm said.

  Malcolm continued. “There is an issue which gives me pause. Laird Fraser prefers something more stable in the alliance and asks that our clans be joined by marriage.”

  Tristan huffed. “We’ve all married. Certainly, he is aware.”

  “Not everyone.” Malcolm looked to Ruari and Ewan who exchanged round-eyed looks. “Do not worry. I am sure a marriage will not be demanded as I am sure he expected for either Tristan or Kieran to be the grooms to his daughter.”

  “However,” Tristan interjected. “A marriage between the clans does mean a more stable alliance.”

  “I am not going to get married. Besides, I am not from this clan,” Ewan said with a glower.

  Ruari huffed. “What did ye just say about making yerself useful?”

  Once the chuckling died down, Ruari noted everyone was studying him as if they were noticing what he looked like for the first time.

  “Why do ye not have a woman?” Malcolm asked. “Ye have never been with anyone longer than a night…or two.”

  The blood in his veins ran cold. “I have seen a woman longer than that,” he lied.

  “Who was she?” Tristan asked, eyes narrowed.

  Was he really having to defend himself against a marriage arrangement?

  His throat became dry and he fought to breathe.

  “What if I say no?” Ruari finally asked, scowling at his cousin. “When the time comes, I prefer to choose whom I marry. Not some woman who is forced into it.”

  “We do not know if she is forced or not,” Tristan, ever the diplomat, stated. “Besides, I am sure there will be meetings and negotiations first. A marriage may not need to take place.”

  Malcolm stood and went to a side table where he poured a glass of whisky. “I have an idea.”

  At everyone’s silence, Malcolm gave Ruari a pointed look. “Ye wish to buy horses. Why don’t ye go to see Laird Fraser with that as a pretext? The laird’s brother breeds the best warhorses in the area. Ye can then meet his daughter and see how it will go.”

  “Will I be expected to bring the laird some sort of message from ye?”

  Malcolm nodded. “Aye, of course. A message that I agree to the alliance, but not to fight if they go to war against the Mackenzie. We will send warriors as a show of solidarity, but our clan will not join in battle. We’ve had enough of it.”

  “What about the marriage request?” Ewan, ever helpful, asked.

  Lifting one shoulder, Malcolm dismissed the idea. “If he asks, tell him that my brothers are married, and we have few options.”

  The idea had merit. It would be a good
trip there and back since the weather was warm as it was the middle of the summer season. The house was full of people now that his cousins were all married and fathering children. There was rarely a moment of peace and quiet.

  Malcolm’s wife, Elspeth, had recently given birth to a second son, which meant her family was currently visiting.

  The keep was crowded between family, visitors and villagers who spent an entire day or two there when coming to meet with Malcolm.

  “I agree to go see the horses, and to deliver the message. I will not marry the woman, so ye must find someone else who is willing.”

  “Do ye need anyone to go along with ye and help bring back horses?” Tristan asked.

  “No. If I choose more than two, they can bring the rest when they visit.” Ruari was not about to give up the opportunity for time alone. Despite it being two days each way, he did not mind the idea of sleeping outside while heading to visit the Fraser.

  They continued to discuss other things that pertained to everyday life in the clan. There were farmers and villages to visit and collect taxes from. There were elders that had to be checked on and widows who often required help of some sort. Ruari went over the list of responsibilities mentally.

  “Tomorrow, Ian and I will ride out to the Stuart farm and take care of making sure all is well there,” Ruari told the group.

  “Very well,” Malcolm said. “When can ye depart to visit Fraser?”

  “In three days, if that is acceptable.”

  Once Malcolm nodded, Ruari left the study and walked back to the stables. He’d have to speak to one of his stable hands about the rebellious horse. Then he stopped and looked at the animal, considering if he should ride it. It would be a good opportunity to tame the animal. Besides, no one else would be able to go near unruly beast.

  In the corral, the horse had stopped circling and now nudged the far end of the enclosure several times with its nose. Moments later, the horse moved a few feet away and repeated the gesture. The animal was intelligent and tested the fencing for weaknesses.