Highlander's Guardian (Highlander Heat #4)

They trotted down the trail, entered the depth of the forest and left the imposing sight of Holyrood House behind. The palace’s park, a vast expanse of land stretching for hundreds of acres held glens, lush rolling moors, rocky crags and hidden lochs. ‘Twas wonderful to be surrounded by such seclusion mere minutes after leaving the castle.

James too grinned, his shoulders wide as a look of pure pleasure crossed his face. His mop of unruly red curls gave him a youthful look, although the two-handed sword strapped in a baldric across his broad back, stated he was a warrior, born and bred. “Tell me more about yourself, Annie. I’m aware you grew up on Mull afore your father joined the MacLeods at Dunvegan.”

“Aye. I was a mischievous bairn, climbing trees and hunting from high in my tree hut.” Well, it had been Colin’s tree hut, but as he’d grown older and left his youth behind, he’d visited it less often, so she’d claimed it for herself.

“I too had a favorite tree I climbed and hunted from. One day I shall have children and ensure they enjoy such things. Do you desire bairns, Annie?”

“Very much.” She yearned to have children, and had since losing her parents. “I will have as many as my husband gives me.”

“Then you’ll make a wonderful wife, and I only hope mine.” A twinkle lit his blue eyes.

“I—” A drop of water splashed her cheek. The skies had darkened overhead, obliterating the clear skies as low cloud rolled in. “The weather changes as fast here as it does in the isles.”

“Aye, it does.” James glanced toward the hills ahead. “Those storm clouds look particularly heavy that way. Mayhap we’ll ride straight to The King’s Tavern. An earlier meal willnae hurt us, and I dinnae wish to see you get wet.”

“An early lunch sounds wonderful.”

He changed their course and veered south-west toward the edge of the park. “You’ll like this tavern. I’ve enjoyed the proprietor’s hospitality many a time and the cook makes a hearty stew.”

“Then let’s race. I feel the need for even more fresh air.”

“Aye, what the lady wishes, the lady will have.” With a shout, he slapped his mount’s flanks with his heels and took off.

Annie raced after him, his exuberance encouraging her own.



Dark and ominous clouds gusted in as Colin rode toward his meeting place in the congested heart of Edinburgh. As thunder boomed and lightning slashed, he opened his saddlebags, pulled his heavy black cloak out and slung it over his shoulders before tucking himself lower and picking up his speed.

The heavens opened and rain pounded onto the cobbled road. It streamed downhill, sending the pungent scent of the city from the streets and into the gutters. Along the roadside, two lively children squealed and dashed barefoot into their home while a lanky brown-haired dog chased after them.

At the end of the street, The White Dover Inn with its boarded two-story facade appeared and he pulled up in the courtyard, tossed his reins to a waiting stable hand and dashed indoors.

The inn’s crowded main room held a score of patrons seated at small tables, all enjoying a tankard and a meal. Leaving his hood pulled low, he walked toward Ian who sat hunched in the far darkened corner. His man was bereft of his clan plaid, his identity hidden under a hooded cloak as his was.

He slid in beside his man where he’d have a good view of the room. “Is all well?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.

“Aye, Murdock waits in the forest. We’ve set up camp in a quiet spot near the park’s faerie stones, up on the ridge.”

“I know the place. You’ve had no problem keeping out of sight?” He didn’t need the king or his men discovering there were more MacLean warriors in Edinburgh other than himself and Arthur when the possibility of surprise might be needed.

“No one’s been able to identify us.”

“Good.”

A barmaid flounced toward them, a tray of tankards in hand and her bountiful breasts almost spilling from her brown kirtle’s low neckline. “What would ye like to quench your thirst, my lovelies?”

“Ale will do, lass.”

Raising an appreciative eyebrow, she set a drink before him. “A big man like ye must have a ferocious appetite. Should ye need aught more, holler out.”

“I’ll no’ be hollering, but thank you all the same.” The cheeky lass. Colin swatted her bottom and sent her on her way. It had been three long years since he’d last flipped a lass’s skirts. Far too long, but he’d yet to meet a lass lately who appealed.

“You never holler, no’ since the day you became Annie MacLeod’s guardian.” Ian took a swig of his ale and eyed the serving girl as she served other patrons at a nearby table. “Is Annie at court as you heard she was?”

“Aye, and seeking a husband.”

“You dinnae wish her for yourself?”

“I have a chief to free.”

Ian scratched his bristly jaw. “How do the talks between Lachlan and the king go?”

“They’ve disintegrated. Lachlan now seeks his freedom from the tower, however we can arrange it.”