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  “He only wants a few stones for the memorial cairn.” Marjory bent another icy look right back at him. The little brown and white dog sitting beside her skirts eyed him with equal animosity.

  Marjory glanced at her pet, and then back at Kendrew as if the teeny beast’s opinion supported hers. “Send James the rocks and”—she curved her lips in an annoyingly superior smile—“he’ll leave you be.”

  “Aye, he will.” Kendrew swelled his chest. “But no’ because I do his bidding, I say you.”

  Jaw set, he shot a glance at the hall’s high, narrow-slit windows, his irritation increasing to see that the twilight was already sliding into night. The sky still shone with the fine luminosity of highest summer, but the hour was advancing.

  The celebrations at the dreagan stones would be well underway.

  “You did agree to send stones.” Marjory proved she could be the most vexatious female he knew. “I heard you when we were at Castle Haven to discuss the cairn just a few months past. Everyone heard you.”

  Kendrew cut the air with a hand, ignoring her argument.

  “I’d rather send Blood Drinker arcing into James Cameron’s skull.” He grinned again, liking the notion.

  Blood Drinker, his beloved, well-used, and storied war ax, hadn’t quenched his thirst of late. Giving his finely tooled blade a nice long drink of Cameron blood would do the weapon good.

  “The bastard is a bane.” He relished the shock on his sister’s face. “He’ll no’ be getting a single Nought stone for his cairn. Every rock here, even the smallest pebble, belongs where it is.

  “Cuiridh mi clach ’ad charn.” Kendrew waited for her reaction. “Have you forgotten that those words mean so much more than ‘I will place a stone on your cairn?’ Has it slipped your mind”—he stepped closer, frowning down at her—“that the old wisdom has little to do with carrying a rock to a man’s final resting place and everything to do with vowing never to forget that man?”

  When she flushed, Kendrew pounced. “Every stone on our land, be it on a cairn or in the bottom of a burn, recalls a long-past clansman. I’ll no’ disgrace their memories by seeing even a grain of Nought sand added to a memorial that glorifies our enemies.”

  Satisfied that Marjory couldn’t argue, Kendrew folded his arms.

  She recovered swiftly. “Word is Alasdair MacDonald sent enough stones to build a small house.” Straightening to her full height, she tossed back her bright, sun-gold hair and raised her chin, defiant. “ He—”

  Kendrew snorted. “MacDonald is a worse snake than Cameron. With his sister now married to James, the bastard had no choice but to send Blackshore rocks. I do have a choice and Cameron knows what it is.”

  “He can’t. You’re ignoring his requests.”

  “That’s my answer.”

  “The memorial cairn is to mark the battle site,” Marjory persisted. Her dog stood, a cagey look entering his eyes as he started toward Kendrew. A wee creature she’d illogically named Hercules, the dog was clearly bent on performing a favorite irritating trick.

  “Call him off, Norn.” Kendrew glared at the dog, his manly dignity keeping him from leaping out of Hercules’s leg-lifting range.

  “Hercules, come here.” Marjory used her sweetest tone.

  The dog bared his teeth and growled at Kendrew, but then trotted dutifully back to Marjory, where he once again took his place beside her.

  “He’s annoyed by your grumblings.” Marjory excused her pet. “And I’m disappointed by your stubbornness.” She took a breath, all cold, northern ice again. Kendrew could almost feel the chill winds swirling around him. “You’re deliberately undermining the peace in this glen. You know there’s to be a friendship ceremony at Castle Haven in two months. If you refuse to send stones, the cairn can’t be completed.”

  “Could be I’m for forgetting that slaughter ever happened.” Kendrew grabbed his bearskin off the bench where he’d thrown it earlier and swirled it around his shoulders. “If I think about it, I just want to be there again.” He strode right up to his sister, towering over her. “Only then I’d finish the fight, leaving no’ a miserable Cameron or MacDonald on the bloody field.”

  “The king ordered peace.” Marjory didn’t back down.

  Hercules growled again.

  “Robert Stewart has his royal will.” Kendrew stepped around them both and threw open the hall door. “And I”—he glanced over his shoulder at her—“am off to Slag’s Mound to enjoy what peace is left to me.

  “A pity you’ll no’ be coming along.” At the moment, he was secretly relieved.

  In such a mood, she’d ruin the festivities.

  “Hercules was ailing this morn.” She bent and scooped the wee dog into her arms, coddling him. “I’ll not be leaving him alone tonight.”

  “As you wish.” Kendrew shrugged, certain Hercules looked triumphant.

  He knew a trickster when he saw one.

  He was a master scoundrel himself, after all.

  Glad of it—and proud, truth be told—he pulled the hall door shut behind him and stepped out into the glistening, silver-shot night.

  Marjory needn’t know he had other reasons for being so thrawn about the stones.

  His stubbornness was Cameron’s own fault.

  The last time he’d visited Castle Haven, he’d told James of seeing several armed strangers. Thickbearded men in helms and mail, they’d lurked about on a ledge overlooking the waterfall behind the Cameron stronghold.

  James claimed his lookouts would’ve spotted any trespassers. He did send men to the falls. No strangers were found. James’s tone upon reporting his guards’ findings implied that Kendrew had mistaken water spray for the glint of mailed coats.

  Kendrew said no more.

  But he hadn’t forgotten the slight.

  Pushing his foe from his mind, he stepped deeper onto the broad landing.

  Splendor greeted him, making his heart thud fast in his chest. Castle Nought’s thick, impregnable walls rose seamlessly from the cliffs at the northernmost end of the Glen of Many Legends. And here, in the stone-cut arch of the lofty gatehouse, the whole sweep of his territory could be admired. But he knew that many short-sighted fools didn’t appreciate the windy, steep-sided vista of rock and mist stretching beneath him. Those misguided souls thought of his home as a dark and benighted place, full of cold and menace.

  Kendrew knew better.

  True men thrived in such wildness.

  Soft living created weak men. Those who cowered in gentler climes weren’t worthy of their bollocks.

  Knowing he was worthy of his and more, Kendrew reached for the heavy gold Thor’s hammer at his throat and kissed the well-loved amulet.

  The gods did well settling him and those who’d gone before him as the guardians of this rugged, mist-drenched corner of the Highlands. Tonight he and his people—and a few lusty, well-made lasses drawn to the raucousness from the surrounding hills and moors—would honor those gods, thanking them for their bounty.

  Already, the bonfires were lit in celebration, flames leaping high against the sides of the high peaks hemming Nought land. The fires threw a pulsing, golden cast across the windswept ridges and the narrow, rock-filled vale, the contrast with the glistening silver of the night sky almost too beautiful to behold.

  But Kendrew did, fierce pride coursing in his veins.

  He loved Nought.

  And he waited all year for Midsummer Eve.

  It was a night of magic.

  A time when—he was sure—even the dreagans sleeping beneath their stony cairns stirred and yearned for the days of yore.

  Kendrew understood such longing.

  And when he let his gaze sweep the great mounds of jumbled rocks so many glen folk still feared, he knew he’d sooner take his last breath than call any other place home. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, reveling in the heady smell of cold air and damp stone, the tantalizing trace of roasting meat and woodsmoke drifting on the wind.

  Joy filled
him.

  It was time to forget any fools who didn’t appreciate Nought and let his own passions run free. Eager to be on his way, he bounded down the bluff’s narrow stone steps and made straight for the jumbled outcroppings dotting his land, the heart of the dreagan stones.

  This Midsummer Eve would be like no other.

  He felt it in his bones.

  THE EDITOR’S DIARY

  Dear Reader,

  Ever made a plan that’s gone awry—all for the sake of love? Then you’ll be charmed to make the acquaintance of both contemporary gal Nina Chickalini and noble medieval warrior Iain MacLean—two different protagonists with plans led astray by romance that can both be found in our two Warner Forever titles this August.

  Romantic Times claims that Sue-Ellen Welfonder “is on her way to stardom” and that her books are “emotion-ally intense, highly sensual and soaring with romance.” All of those elements can be found in her latest Warner Forever title MASTER OF THE HIGHLANDS. Iain MacLean’s fiery temper has finally gotten the best of him. On the first anniversary of his wife’s death, he sets fire to the family chapel out of grief. Facing the wrath of his family, Iain is punished into taking a pilgrimage to deliver a precious holy relic to an obscure monastery on the far side of Scotland. During his journey, he is side-tracked by Lady Madeline Drummond when he comes across her fleeing her home after her parents’ tragic deaths. She wishes to seek revenge on their murderers. As he becomes her protector and champion, Iain discovers his true soul mate in the headstrong Madeline, thus mending his wounded soul.

  Leaving the Scottish Highlands for Queens, New York, we present Wendy Markham’s Warner Forever debut with THE NINE MONTH PLAN. Booklist has described previous books by Wendy Markham as “an undeniably fun journey for the reader.” For Nina Chickalini, Queens is the only place she’s ever known— and the only place she’s dying to escape from. Being the oldest of 5 kids, she has always had the responsibility for her large Italian family thrust on her young shoulders. Now, at 36, Nina has decided it’s time to start her own life away from Queens. But when her best friend since childhood, Joe Materi, tells her he’s given up on finding Mrs. Right and wants a baby, Nina decides to be the surrogate mother. She would do anything for Joe who has always been there for her through thick and thin. But Joe has secretly been in love with Nina for years. Dare he hope their baby plan will lead to a happily-ever-after?

  To find out more about Warner Forever, these August titles, and the authors, visit us at www.warnerforever.com.

  With warmest wishes,

  Karen Kosztolnyik, Senior Editor

  P.S. Next month Warner Forever offers you two titles with heroes whose fates are decided by very determined women: in THAT SUMMER by Joan Wolf a home-town man accused of a crime he didn’t commit finds his sole supporter is a childhood sweetheart from long ago; and with THE SECRET CLAN: REIVER’S BRIDE author Amanda Scott brings to life a dashing Scotsman promised to another who unexpectedly falls in love with a woman he’s forbidden from.

  Contents

  Front Cover Image

  Welcome

  Dedication

  A Preview of Temptation of a Highland Scoundrel

  Acknowledgements

  The MacLean Bane

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Rave Reviews for Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Copyright

  About the Author

  SUE-ELLEN WELFONDER is a dedicated medievalist of Scottish descent who spent fifteen years living abroad, and still makes annual research trips to Great Britain. She is an active member of the Romance Writers of America and her own clan, the MacFie Society of North America. Her first novel, Devil in a Kilt, was one of Romantic Times’s Top Picks. It won RT’s Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best First Historical Romance of 2001. Sue-Ellen Welfonder is married and lives with her husband, Manfred, and their Jack Russell Terrier, Em, in Florida.

  Also by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Devil In A Kilt

  Knight In My Bed

  Bride of the Beast

  RAVE REVIEWS FOR

  SUE-ELLEN WELFONDER

  BRIDE OF THE BEAST

  “Larger-than-life characters and a scenic setting.… Welfonder pens some steamy scenes.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A wonderful story… well told… a delightful mix of characters.”

  —www.Romanticreviews.com

  “BRIDE OF THE BEAST is a thrilling story.… It is so sensual at times it gives you goose bumps.… Ms. Welfonder spins pure magic with her vibrant characters.”

  —Reader to Reader Reviews

  “This tale by Ms. Welfonder will leave an indelible mark on readers’ hearts and minds. Marmaduke is a hero to dream about and you’ll be as much under his spell as Caterine.… Ms. Welfonder secures her place as a writer on the way to stardom.”

  —Romantic Times

  KNIGHT IN MY BED

  “Exciting, action-packed… a strong tale that thoroughly entertains.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “The perfect blend of intrigue, forbidden love, and danger.… a story you will want to devour.”

  —www.TheRomanceReadersConnection.com

  “Ripe with sexual tension.… The fast pace, flawless narration, vivid and vital characters, sharp and witty dialogue, and an interesting and suspense-filled plot all make this book a must-read. Breathtaking!”

  —www.RoadtoRomance.ca

  “Steamy… sensual.… Readers will enjoy this book.”

  —Booklist

  “Electrifying… provocative… lushly descriptive… a ripe and willing offering for romance readers who thrill over anything Scottish.”

  —www.RomanticFiction.com

  DEVIL IN A KILT

  “A lovely gem of a book. Wonderful characters and a true sense of place make this a keeper. If you love Scottish tales, you’ll treasure this one.”

  —Patricia Potter, bestselling author of The Heart Queen

  “As captivating as a spider’s web, and the reader can’t get free until the last word. It is easy to get involved in this tense, fast-moving adventure.”

  —Rendezvous

  “FOUR AND A HALF STARS! This dynamic debut has plenty of steaming sensuality… a dusting of mystery. You’ll be glued to the pages by the fresh, vibrant voice and strong emotional intensity.… Will catapult Welfonder onto ‘must-read’ lists.”

  —Romantic Times

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2003 by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Excerpt from Temptation of a Highland Scoundrel copyright © 2011 by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Warner Books, Inc.

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  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.twbookmark.com

  First eBook Edition: December 2008

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-0-446-54730-7

 

 

 
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