Page 1 of Highland Warrior

1

Inverness, Scotland

December, 1647

SWISH!

Ian gazed wide-eyed at the spot where Donell had stood only moments before. Swallowing hard, he observed his brother’s brooch fall to the stone floor, rolling on its edge until it bumped into his boot, and lay still. Leaning down, he picked up the brooch. The silver metal was warm against his fingertips.

What in bloody hell had just happened?

One moment, Donell had been telling him he’d fallen in love with a woman from the future, and he would be leaving Clan MacDuff in Ian’s capable hands.

And then poof! He was gone. Ian scratched his head. Had the outrageous story Donell told him been true? There was no other explanation. All that was left of his brother was the brooch.

Ian slipped the warm metal piece into his pouch and collapsed into his high-backed wooden chair.

So Donell had been telling the truth. Ian was now Laird MacDuff.

A wide smile spread over Ian’s face. His brother had been brooding for the better part of three years. The last month when he spoke of the woman, Lainie, he’d smiled, his eyes flashing with emotion.

If only Ian could find a woman who could set his blood ablaze and melt his heart, as Donell had. But he didn’t have time for that now. Now he had a clan to take care of.

The clan! What would he tell them of Donell’s disappearance? The warring lately, especially with Clan MacRae, had been fierce. With Donell gone, they would surely feel more threatened than ever.

A maid skittered into the room and, seeing his dark expression, immediately turned to leave.

“Nay, lass. Fetch me some ale.” He leaned his head back against the chair.

What could he do? Say?

Taking a swig of the cool drink, he ruminated on every possible explanation to tell his people.

Best to speak with Lachlann. He’d been Donell’s right-hand man next to Ian. He may know what to do.

“I believe ye,” Lachlann said, his face serious.

“Ye do?” Ian was skeptical. The warrior accepted his explanation, plain faced, without a blink.

“Aye. My Da used to tell us great stories of such things. We never believed him when we were young, but hearing the tale from you makes it clear to me now.”

Ian nodded, his fingers rubbing against his temples. His head was pounding, and pain seared across his forehead. “What am I to do?”

“Do? Why, ye’re Laird MacDuff, ye do what ye want.”

Lachlann’s explanation wasn’t as easy as he made it sound. The people would not just accept a new laird’s law because he said it was so. He would need to prove himself first.

“I dinna think the people will accept my story as easily as ye have. What could I tell them? The people were already concerned before Donell left. He hadna taken a wife, there was no heir and there has been so much fighting with the MacRaes. They will surely challenge me.”

Lachlann stood for a moment, started to say something, then stopped and began to pace in front of Ian. The movement of the man increased the pain in Ian’s head. Taking a huge swallow of ale, he hoped it might ease his discomfort.

“Ye are right, so what ye need to do is take a wife. Ease their discomfort. Get her with child so the people have an heir. Donell proved to Clan MacRae he didna have Sera, so there’s not so much fighting going on.” Lachlann spun around, a light in his eyes, and slammed his fist in his hand. “I’ve got it!”

Ian looked up, startled by Lachlann’s sudden outburst. “What?”

“Ye tell the people that to keep us safe, and stop the warring, Donell has agreed to marry a niece of MacRae’s in the lowlands. No one will look for him there. They will feel safe and secure, and then if ye marry, they will see ye are serious.”

Ian nodded, the pain in his head receding. “Aye, call the people.”