Loving A Highland Enemy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Read online

  Loving A Highland Enemy

  Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

  Bridget Freya

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  About The Author

  LOVING A HIGHLAND ENEMY

  PROLOGUE

  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

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  EPILOGUE

  Join My VIP Readers’ Club List

  Also By Bridget Freya

  Acknowledgement

  If You Have Enjoyed This Book…

  Publisher’s Notes

  Copyright © 2018 by Bridget Freya

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Cover designed by Ms Melody Simmons. Author has the copyrights to this cover.

  DEDICATION

  I wisnae pushed, I didnae shove, I just met you and fell in you

  Anonymous

  * * *

  This story and future ones will be for my readers that recognise the true meaning of true love!

  Thank you for giving me this opportunity to write a different kind of Scottish Romance editorial for your entertainment pleasures.

  I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much I have enjoyed writing it!

  Have you checked out my other historical Scottish books series?

  Click the link below to get started

  *** AMAZON USA ***

  * * *

  Do you like what you have read?

  I want to hear from you!

  Please do get in touch with me:

  facebook.com/Author-Bridget-Freya

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bridget Freya has been obsessed with the Medieval time period at a young age, and started her writing on short journal.. of course the rest is history and she has never looked back.

  Her first brush with this wonderful genre was when her grandmother gave her copies of medieval romance stories by Diana Gabaldon.

  Bridget's novels are packed with mild sexual tension, twists, with lots of dialogues and an unexpected mystery elements. Read her inspirations as she explored the intricacies of the Medieval and Scottish Highlands Era.

  ~ Bridget

  LOVING A HIGHLAND ENEMY

  A MEDIEVAL SCOTTISH ROMANCE STORY

  * * *

  by

  BRIDGET FREYA

  PROLOGUE

  Castle Dunmore, Scotland,

  1743

  “I tell ye, it’s east,” Joanna said urgently. Her raven-colored hair fell about her as she whipped her head toward Grace.

  “I dinnae think so. Just a little farther along, I promise ye,” Grace said, trying to suffocate the insecurity she felt while trying to make her way through the woods. They had been traveling for a solid two hours in the November cold.

  “Charlie better be grateful to us for this. We go visit the sickly lass and come back to wander for hours? Little does she ken that by checking in on her we’ve right done ourselves in,” Joanna complained. She wasn’t normally one to complain to this extent, but Grace understood that she had been pushed just a little too far.

  As a gifted healer and seamstress, Joanna Marriott had hoped to work on behalf of the health of Charlotte McKay, a widow and cottager who had fallen ill in the midst of the cold winter. Instead they had been run around by the woman’s eight-year-old triplets and Joanna had been poked in the backside by one of the needles little Jack had taken from her sewing kit.

  Being caught in the cold and falling darkness after all of that was not exactly doing wonders for her mood. Grace bit her tongue from scolding her friend for the attitude she was displaying.

  They still didn’t know one another all that well and Grace was hoping to have a friend in Joanna. It seemed wisest not to try to engage in this moment until she better understood the temper of the mysterious woman who had come to Dunmore recently to live with her aunt.

  “Dinnae worry, I’m sure we’ll find our path soon. People come out here all the time and they rarely get lost. I’ve no doubt that we’re right where we’re meant to be and we’ve simply gotten confused, but we’ll be right on track soon enough,” Grace said in an attempt at being optimistic.

  Joanna looked at her with eyes that showed her full contempt and disbelief in those paltry words. Grace had no doubt she had only made things worse by trying so hard to be positive.

  “How about next time we dinnae stay so unbearably long?” Joanna said through gritted teeth.

  “Aye. It would have been wise if we’d left sooner,” Grace agreed. Their plan would have had them at Dunmore just as dark was falling. It was foolish not to give themselves a bit of time in case they ran into trouble on their way.

  “What was that?” Joanna said in a startled voice. Her eyes grew wide and intense and Grace was certain she saw a look of murder pass through them. Had it really been this grave a mistake to come this way? Moreover, what would happen if they did indeed meet with some terrible fate? Who would ever find them and know that they had merely been lost?

  Grace had heard the sound too. Although they had both heard enough stories to know battles surrounded them, and Joanna had seen the results firsthand as she was called to tend the wounded. However, being lost and alone as two women was more than enough to strike fear in both their hearts.

  The sound continued and it was quick, like a shuffling march, but soon it was clear that there was a group. It would not be long before they discovered whether they were being set upon by a band of thieves.

  “Where is it coming from? Who are they?” Joanna asked in an angry whisper. She was like a snake ready to strike and Grace was the nearest at risk.

  “Calm yerself, Joanna. It’s probably just villagers, lost as we are,” Grace replied.

  Immediately, the sound of a booming laugh was heard followed by an echo of chuckles. Lights were also coming toward them and at least now they saw where the nearby crew was. They were quick. It was defini
tely not mere villagers.

  In a moment, they were upon them. A group of fifteen men on horseback encircled the two and stared down at them from their mounts. Joanna’s eyes grew wide and Grace felt blood rush to her cheeks in embarrassment at being so exposed. Joanna had wanted to take the horses, but Grace insisted a walk would do them good. She regretted that choice now.

  Trying to steel herself against the cold, her exhaustion, and the frustration of being lost, Grace looked up at the men and quickly scanned the five in her range of view, not stopping to pay particular attention in case they sensed her fear.

  However, on the sixth face, she found herself suddenly caught. His green eyes pierced into hers and it seemed as though all of the oxygen in the world had been sucked away from her. The cold suddenly turned warm, though her skin prickled from his returned gaze.

  She could not break away from the mossy color of his eyes, but in her peripheral vision, she instantly took in the blonde hair, the strong jaw, the faint, blonde stubble along his chin with little flecks of gold. It had the red of a Scotsman’s beard within it.

  “Well, ladies, what on earth are you doing in these woods?” asked one of the men.

  His Gaelic was clearly not native and Grace suspected he was an Englishman. A Hanoverian most likely. Still, she was impressed that he spoke as well as he did.

  “We’re on our way home. We got lost looking in on a lass I ken. It would be of great help if ye could set us right on our path. Do ye ken Dunmore?” Grace inquired casually, as if she weren’t afraid to be in the middle of a circle of enemies. She straightened her back a little more in hopes that it would fool the men into believing her false confidence.

  She took a quick glance to her right and saw that the green-eyed man was still watching her. It sucked all her confidence away. She was unsure if she could hold herself together much longer.

  Nevertheless, the response came from a voice to the left and Grace had to turn when the other man began to speak. She saw that he had a nasty scar over his right eye that ran down along his chin.

  “Home? Your home is Dunmore, then? Well, I suppose we had better get you there. Of course, once we do, we will just take you pretty little ladies with us after we raze your little home to the ground,” he said with a growl and a sly grin.

  Grace’s heart began to race and it increased in speed as a few of the men laughed along with the threat. Grace could feel Joanna’s hand in hers as it tensed. She was grateful for this new friend and glad not to be alone.

  She also knew that she should have followed her instincts and not allowed Joanna to determine the path so early on. Joanna had been to Dunmore at times before, but was new to living there. She couldn’t know the area as well as Grace.

  All the previous worries of being lost drifted away and this new worry overtook her. This was a worry that perhaps a man with foul intentions might have a say in her future. That he might make a choice against her own—to change her life forever.

  “Allen,” came a deep, velvety voice. It was firm and stern. “Leave the girls alone.”

  He spoke in English and Grace found herself uncertain of the green-eyed man. She understood his words clearly, but she wondered why a man with so many Scottish features would be speaking in clear English and traveling with men like these.

  “I’m only having a bit of fun, Douglas,” the scarred man replied.

  “And if you do not stop, it will be the last fun you ever have,” the green-eyed man warned.

  Grace followed the conversation with intense interest, knowing that these thinly veiled threats could have great impact on her and Joanna. She could tell that the green-eyed man, quiet though he was, led the group. He was the one in charge. By warning the other man, Allen, all the others tensed, ready for command.

  A bitter look lingered between the two soldiers until the one called Allen finally looked away. Grace returned her gaze to the man who had been referred to as Douglas. He looked back at her from his horse and seemed to catch his breath.

  “Lass,” he began in perfect Gaelic, “if you walk ten meters to the west, you will find a path. Take it south and you will be home within the hour.”

  His eyes held compassion for the two lost women and Grace found herself quite undone by the tone behind his words. She knew it was senseless to be so taken by him in this sudden moment, but could not seem to help herself.

  Grace had never considered herself particularly caught off guard by a handsome face, but she had certainly noticed his. His kindness in helping them and defending the girls from the other man had also affected her.

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied, slightly bowing her head. In this moment, she was embarrassed not to have the strong confidence known to Scottish women, but Grace had always been more reserved in her strength and she worried that her hesitancy was painfully obvious.

  “It’s nothing. Be safe on your journey,” Douglas replied. His eyes lingered on her and he gave her the slightest of nods to assure her that she was safe. She was grateful for that sense of peace.

  Nevertheless, Grace cast a glance at Allen, unsure how safe the journey might prove to be. She hoped that she could trust the green-eyed man to prevent any further threats or incidents. She hoped the peace she felt was not misplaced.

  “We’ll do what we can,” Grace said. Douglas moved his horse aside and let the two women out of the circle. They began their journey west.

  Grace cast one final glance at the men. They had all rearranged themselves to continue on their way, but when she looked back, she saw that Douglas still had his eyes on her. It caused her stomach to roll and flip, but Joanna grabbed her hand and they continued forward at a rapid pace set by the healer.

  “What foul men,” Joanna said once they had cleared a bit of distance.

  “They wernae all bad,” Grace replied.

  “Mm-hmm,” Joanna said teasingly. “Let me guess which one ‘wasnae all bad’.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace asked defensively. She was immediately aware that the fact she had taken notice of the green-eyed man had been noted by her friend.

  “Ye ken exactly what it means. It would seem that blondie noticed ye and ye noticed right back,” Joanna said breezily.

  “It was no such thing,” Grace defended. Her denial came out unconvincingly and she felt the blush come to her cheeks.

  “Ye ken it was. Dinnae even try to deny it,” Joanna said.

  Grace’s embarrassment was enough to give her fangs. “Well at least I ken me east from me west. I was right, wasnae I?” she asked, now that she was confident they were on the right path to Dunmore. She couldn’t let Joanna have all the confidence.

  “Unless he’s having ye on and we’re setting for a trap so that he can whisk ye away to be his Scottish prisoner bride. Ye ken some Englishmen will do that,” Joanna warned darkly.

  Grace wondered for a moment. She couldn’t imagine that such a thing would happen to them. She knew it happened, but it wouldn’t happen to them. Not now. They were on the path home and safety was within their reach.

  “Dinnae be a fool, Joanna. It’s no such thing. And didnae ye notice he had a bit of Scot about him? The beard, the perfect brogue,” she said. She immediately wished she could take back her words. Complimenting him like that would only confirm to Joanna the extent to which she had noticed him.

  “Ye’re only wishing. Ye think if he’s a Scot then ye’re free to notice him, but come now. He’s a Hanoverian through and through,” Joanna said with a wave of her hand. It was easy for her to dismiss the man based on the type of men he was traveling with, whether he had helped the two women or not.

  After a moment of silence, Joanna continued. “I need to get back to me aunt. Ye ken she isnae well and it isnae fair for me to be off with others just now.”

  “I ken. Ye’re right; we had best get back quickly.” Grace conceded just so she could feel relief from Joanna and give into something they agreed on. Otherwise, she felt there would be a rift.

&nb
sp; “And ye ken I’m right about the other thing too…” Joanna added.

  Grace knew that she would be wise to listen to her friend, yet she couldn’t bring herself to get it from her head to her heart. In noticing him, she had been affected beyond expectation. Could this really happen? Was it truly possible to be so taken by someone in only a moment?

  A Need for Constant Distraction

  “Lieutenant Holloway,” Douglas greeted. He had just returned from riding in the woods with his men and needed a distraction. His immediate junior, Richard Holloway, was a good man and someone he enjoyed chatting with.

  Different though they were, at times Holloway was mistaken for Douglas’s brother due to their mutual respect for one another and the fact that they had a similar shade of green eyes.

  “General. Good to see you. How was the ride?” Holloway asked. Douglas appreciated that despite his confidence, Holloway always showed a healthy honor in his attitude for his superior.