Page 1 of My Notorious Highlander

Chapter One

Loch Shin, Scotland, June, 1619

Torrin MacLeod awoke to the sounds of his men talking outside the tent. Dawn had arrived but, being close to midsummer, 'twas still early, around four in the morning.

"Chief," Struan, his sword-bearer, said just outside.

"Aye?" Torrin sat up, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep.

"Riders approaching."

Having slept fully clothed in his belted plaid, shirt and doublet, Torrin pushed through the flaps of the tent and joined his clansmen. "How many?"

"Six or eight." His brawny sword-bearer narrowed his eyes and squinted into the distance.

Indeed, those approaching through the mist from the south rode along the trail by Loch Shin at a quick pace. "They're in a hurry."

"Aye."

The other six MacLeods in his own party stood at the ready, though they appeared deceptively relaxed. He didn't have to tell them to prepare for an attack. They all well knew anyone could quickly turn into an enemy. He always took his best-trained guards with him whenever he traveled. They'd just left Lairg the day before. After his business there was completed, they'd headed north toward Durness. His good friend and foster brother, Iain Stewart, had wanted to accompany him, but Torrin had left while the man slept off a bad bout of drunkenness from the night before. He didn't need Iain's help on this mission.

None of his men, except Struan, had guessed his purpose in going to Durness. Of course, Struan could read him easily, and he knew Torrin held a keen interest in Lady Jessie MacKay. An interest that had only increased over the last several months since he'd first met her, even though he hadn't seen her again.

She haunted him. Her flaming red hair and her bright blue eyes wouldn't leave his mind or his dreams. Never had he seen such a beautiful lady. She had the presence of a Norse goddess, tall, lithe, and statuesque… almost as tall as Torrin.

Not only were the clan elders hounding him about marrying, but he was ready for a wife. At twenty-eight, he knew 'twas past time for him to marry and sire an heir. His younger brother was already married and had a wee bairn, a lass. He felt left behind. He'd arranged to marry Isobel MacKenzie, but Chief Dirk MacKay, Jessie's brother, had snatched Isobel from beneath his nose. He didn't hold it against Dirk. Torrin had been uncertain of the match anyway. But Jessie… she was a woman he didn't wish to let slip through his fingers.

The riders, swathed in belted plaids, slowed as they approached and eyed Torrin and his men cautiously.

They drew up as they came even with the camp. "A good morn to you," their leader said, his black hair in a queue, and a few days' worth of beard stubble darkening his cheeks.

"Good morn," Torrin said. "You're traveling early."

"Aye, we needed an early start to reach Durness on the morrow at gloaming."

"That's where we're headed as well."

Their leader and two more men dismounted. "Gregor MacBain, Chief of the MacBains." He offered his hand.

"Chief Torrin MacLeod." He shook the other man's hand, noting that MacBain was shorter than him but also stockier. Of course, most people were shorter than Torrin. "Would you like to join us as we break our fast?" He wanted to ask the man what his business was in Durness, but since they'd just met, he didn't want to pry. Likely, the man would reveal his purpose before long.

"I thank you, but we've already eaten."

"It might be good to ride together into MacKay Country. A gang of a dozen or so highwaymen and outlaws troll the area." Torrin wouldn't add that his own brother, Nolan, had joined that gang. It saddened and shamed him greatly.

"Indeed?" Suspicion colored MacBain's tone.

"Aye. Donald McMurdo and Haldane MacKay lead them."

"Och. I've heard of McMurdo, a wily old highwayman who has murdered countless people."

Torrin nodded.

"And who is this Haldane MacKay?" MacBain asked.

"A lad of around twenty summers but still deadly. The youngest brother of the MacKay chief."

MacBain's dark eyes widened. "Any relation to Lady Jessie MacKay?"