She folded her hand in his and then wrapped her arms around his arm, pressing close to him.
He brushed a kiss on her smooth forehead. She wasn't the only one to feel that way. After a lifetime of believing his father had been a traitor, his mother finally sat him down and discussed it all. His da killed the officials who had planned to abduct several chiefs and hold them captive until they agreed to terms of trade that would render their lands destitute. Trade was everything to the Highlanders who existed on a currency of bartering.
His da had hung for his crimes and his name smeared for his efforts. His father knew of the scheme because his mother had heard it from one of the English wives. Had his father not done what he did, had he told people instead, it would have been Ewan's mother who died. He swung from the rope to save her, to save his people, and no one was ever the wiser.
Ewan had thought becoming a soldier of the Black Watch would wipe clean his reputation. Too late, he realized it had tarnished it instead.
But now...now he was an honest man with his own land let at a fair rent, with hay grown at the labor of his own back. Most importantly, his family was safe.
“This too has become my haven,” Ewan said softly. “And ye have become my joy.”
Light conversation flitted between the Crosbys and the mothers behind them. Freya nuzzled closer to him. “Ye're about to have even more joy in yer life.”
Ewan looked out at the endless stretch of golden hay and nodded. “Aye, I am.”
Freya laughed and nudged her shoulder into him. “I dinna mean the harvest.”
He glanced down at her. She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes glittering with barely restrained excitement. Suddenly a gasp sucked the smile from his face, right down into his heart.
She nodded and put the hand she clasped against her flat lower stomach. “Aye, I'm with child. Ewan, we're going to have a bairn.”
Ewan pulled his hand from Freya's so he could grab her waist and twirl her in the air. They laughed together and ended in a warm kiss.
After a lifetime of unnecessary repentance, after being a traitor and being freed, after losing so much and getting it all back again, Ewan had found love and through that, he had found happiness.
He was a lucky man indeed.
THANK YOU FOR READING
Thank you so much for reading The Madam’s Highlander. I truly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please know that I read all my reviews and welcome your thoughts on my book.
To find out more information on my books and more about me, please visit my website at http://www.madelinemartin.com
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Books by Madeline Martin
Heart of the Highlands Series
Deception of a Highlander
Possession of a Highlander
Enchantment of a Highlander
Mercenary Maidens Series
Highland Spy
Highland Ruse
Wicked Earls Club
Earl of Benton
Novellas
A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love
The Highlander’s Challenge
The Highlander’s Untamed Lady
The Madam’s Highlander
Read on for an excerpt from Madeline Martin’s A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love
A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love
Banff, Scotland June 1604
Senara had never fought against four men at once, but she wasn't about to back down from the challenge.
“Give us the horse and we'll leave ye be.” The taller of the men gripped her fingers where she held Norbert's reins. His hand was as large as both of hers combined.
Norbert huffed out a breath of warm air, as if he found the idea preposterous. For indeed it was. She'd no sooner give up her horse than she would her father's sword.
Her parents had been generous to gift her with both prior to her departure. She'd rather die than lose either.
“I'll be damned if I give ye anything.” Senara swept a dagger from her waist and drew the razor-sharp tip over the man's thumb.
He loosed a curse and jerked his hand back. “The cat's got claws, lads.” The look he gave the others was not one of caution, but of malice.
Of foul intent.
Senara glanced at the swells of purple heather surrounding the trail and at the heavy green trees beyond. It did not appear there were more men.
Four men would not be impossible.
She edged in front of Norbert.
“That's quite a blade ye got there, lass.” A man with a tangle of blond hair grinned at the first man. “Did she stick ye with her poker?”
The other two laughed.
Senara slid free her father's sword from the leather scabbard. The steel glinted in the afternoon sun, embodied with all the strength and bravery of her father.
“Does she even know how to use it?” the blond asked.
Senara didn't answer.
They would see.
The man with the injured hand - nay, the injured pride - charged at her. Senara stepped aside from his clumsy attack.
The others laughed.
The tall man's face went red. This time he pulled out his own sword - a terribly large thing he had to hold with two hands.
Her heart skittered against her ribs, but she tamped down the swell of fear. She'd done mock fights with her father and brother many times.
Norbert, she reminded herself. She was doing this to save her sweet Norbert.
The tall man swung his blade down toward her head. She crossed her sword and dagger against one another and stopped the lethal blow. The clang of metal was almost deafening, and the vibrations carried up her arms and near rattled her back teeth.
She shoved the man's blade from her and lashed out with her own sword. He moved to block her assault, which was exactly what she'd wanted.
In a deft move, she attacked with the dagger, plunging it into his side. She pulled the blade free and a warm wash of blood gushed out over her hand.
Surprise showed on the man's face. He staggered back with a hand to the wound.
Though not a mortal hit, it was a warning.
She was no lass easily defeated.
Two of the men lunged toward her at once. She arched her sword through the air as her father had shown her and both their blows were blocked with a metallic ring.
Senara knelt and stabbed with the blade, catching one man in the thigh and swiping the other on the rump.
Truth be told, she hadn't meant to hit him there, but it was the only flesh within reach. And if it came down to his injured bum or saving Norbert, well - she'd save Norbert.
The man howled in offense, rightly so, and drew back.
A shadow blotted out the summer sun behind Senara and chilled the warm day. Her skin prickled with the nearness of a new arrival.
Perhaps she ought to have feared him, attacked him even, but the open mouths of her assailants gave her a sense of comfort regarding the stranger.
The blond man had been moving toward her before the new person arrived, and his momentum continued to carry him toward her. Senara lifted her sword to halt his attack.