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  The Honor of a Highlander

  A Novella

  By:

  April Holthaus

  Cover design by April Holthaus

  Printed in the United States

  First Printing: September 2013

  ISBN-10: 1492221600

  ISBN-13: 978-1492221609

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 April Holthaus

  Dedicated to:

  My husband, for all of your love and support and believing in me.

  Laird Rory MacKinnon set out to join William Wallace after discovering an imminent threat that the English have planned an attack. Raised as a warrior, he has given his heart and soul to fight for Scotland’s freedom, until he meets a lass who has captured his heart like no other, Lady Annella. After a brutal attack on her land, Rory discovers that Annella has been taken prisoner by the English. Now Rory must fight; not only to secure his own clan’s freedom but to save the woman he loves.

  Annella, the eldest daughter of the MacCallum clan vows to never marry, until the day Rory MacKinnon enters her life and opens her heart. Heading off to war she knew they had no future. After her father offers aid to Laird MacKinnon and his men to help in their campaign, her castle is attacked and her father is killed by the English for treason. Starved and beaten for denying to pledge her allegiance to the English King, Annella has earned her place in the gallows. Her fate now rests in Rory’s hands.

  Contents

  Chapter 1………………………………………..6

  Chapter 2………………………………………..23

  Chapter 3…………………………………….….38

  Chapter 4…………………………………….….50

  Chapter 5…………………………………….….61

  Chapter 6…………………………………….….71

  Chapter 7…………………………………….….83

  Chapter 8………………………………………..97

  Chapter 9…………………………………….….108

  Chapter 10………………………………………119

  Chapter 11………………………………….…...130

  Chapter 12………………………………………140

  Chapter 13………………………………..……..151

  Chapter 14………………………………………165

  Chapter 15………………………………………182

  Chapter 1

  Late August

  Argyll, Scotland 1297

  “Bollocks,” Annella cried out after pricking her finger with the needle again. This had been her third time having to repair her blue and green arisaid.

  Berta cleared her throat and gave Annella a solemn look of disappointment. “That is no’ a way for a lady to speak.”

  Annella peered up at Berta and gave her a sour expression when she was not looking.

  “How did ye ruin yer plaid this time?”

  “I dinna ruin it, it ripped while I was riding up the hill. It got snagged on a tree branch,” she replied with a dreadful look upon her face, waiting for one of Berta’s never-ending lectures. Berta had been her maid ever since she was a wee lass and had a history of being short-tempered.

  “After ye get done, there will be nothing left of it. Come now lass, ye must get dressed and fix that unruly hair of yers. Yer father has visitors coming today and he is expecting ye to be down in the great hall.” She walked over to the wooden chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a fresh chemise and gown. “I will fix yer plaid while ye get dressed.”

  With a dreadful look on her face, she slowly got up and took her time dressing. Another suitor? Even the thought of it made her stomach cringe. Over the past several months, her father had invited suitors for her to meet in hopes that she would agree to marry one of them without dispute.

  Laird Stewart, the last man who came, smelled vile and was much older than her. She could still recall the nausea she felt. He was angry that he had ridden all the way just to be rejected. Her father had compensated the man for his travels but Laird Stewart said that he would be back again after the harvest season when she changed her mind. But that was never going to happen. Annella would gladly join a convent before ever marrying him.

  She pulled her chemise over her head and picked up the green gown Berta had laid down on the bed. If only I was a lad, I would ne’er have to marry if I dinna want to…the thought made her smile.

  Berta came up behind her to tighten the laces on the back of her dress. “Why do ye keep running up that wretched hillside anyways? It’s steep and ye could get hurt.”

  “I enjoy riding my horse, that’s all,” she lied.

  Berta came to her front, lowered her head and looked at her underneath her eyelashes. She knew her reason for running off and knew it had nothing to do with riding.

  Riding to the top of the hillside was Annella’s favorite place to be alone. She could see a far distance of her beautiful countryside that overlooked the rolling green hills and the vast forest below. To her, it was freedom.

  “My lady, ye cannae keep running off every time a mon comes to ask fer yer hand. Ye are already nineteen and it’s about time to be looking for a husband. Just take a look at Nessa, she found herself a fine mon. It may no’ be the love match ye speak of but she will learn to love him overtime, just as ye will with yer husband.”

  “Berta, I am no’ Nessa. Is it too much to ask for a marriage to be bound by love instead of obligation? What if the mon I am forced to marry is an awful mon and ne’er even loves me?”

  “Ach, my lady, dreams are lovely but they are no’ real. True love matches are rare and dinna come around verra often. Fer a lady, all ye can hope fer is a mon with a good name who can offer ye protection,” she replied as she softly touched Annella’s cheek.

  “I dinna need protection, Berta, I have my horse and my bow. No’ to mention that I can best any mon who challenges me.”

  “Aye, I ken ye can, lass. Ye have grown up so much, Annella. Yer mother would have been verra proud of ye. It’s been hard on yer father all these years trying to raise two daughters alone. And he feels that ye would be better taken care of if ye had a husband.”

  “Aye, I suppose so.”

  “I ken so. Now ye get downstairs before yer father gets in one of his moods.”

  Annella nodded and walked down the stairs sulking. She didn’t want whoever the potential husband was to think of her as an eager bride, just the opposite. So she took her time, slowly taking each step one at a time.

  Rory knew that gathering supplies at Dunstan Castle would be beneficial. They were only able to carry enough food and supplies for several days at a time. The laird of Dunstan Castle, Laird Hamish MacCallum had been good friends with his father for most of his life before he passed two summers ago.

  Rory sat at the head of the table in the great hall with Laird Hamish. The room was smaller than his back at Dunakin and less furnished. It was dim and the walls were bare. It became apparent to Rory that the MacCallum clan did not have much coin to buy such luxurious things.

  “Laird MacCallum, another attack on Scottish soil is imminent. Messengers have reported all throughout the lowlands that English troops have been spotted burning villages and pillaging. William Wallace is revolting. He fights for our freedom. I have come to ask for men to join us and supplies for our journey.”

  “Call me Hamish lad,” he said and then looked to address his guard, Alastair, “Talk wit the men. If they choose to leave and fight I will give ‘em my blessing.”

  “Aye, my laird,”
Alastair replied.

  “What of Wallace? I hear that he fights with common men. What of the other lairds and earls?” Hamish asked.

  “Right now verra few join us. Longshanks claims he offers peace by giving them property in England if they will follow him, but he is full of lies and deceit. He has raised the taxes to support his war against France and e’en they are talking about joining the rebellion against him. Wallace will take any mon who is willing to fight for our freedom, and his numbers are growing.”

  “I will see what I can do,” Hamish replied.

  While discussing terms with Hamish, in the corner of his eye appeared the loveliest sight he had ever seen. A beautiful young lass he had not had the honor to meet.

  She was wearing a long tight-fitted dark green dress that dragged on the floor behind her. She either lacked the skills of sewing or the previous owner had been a little taller than this wee creature standing at the bottom of the stairs. He continued talking with his host while nonchalantly taking glances in her direction.

  She started to walk slowly in their direction. Her long reddish-brown hair was loosely braided and a few locks of hair had rested over her shoulders. The ends curled and slightly cupped each side of her small breasts. His eyes traced down the shape of her body, over her curvy hips and slender legs all the way down to the small slippers peeking out from under the dress.

  He nodded to Laird Hamish in her direction to acknowledge the bonny lass walking towards them. Hamish nodded in agreement and they both stood and walked over to greet her.

  Annella sighed and continued her way towards the dais where her father was talking to Alastair and another man she did not recognize. He glanced her way but did not seem to take notice of her. They must have been in very deep conversation, she assumed.

  The man was definitely from the Highlands, she told herself. He had the same strong brogue accent that her father had. She was good at distinguishing Highlanders from lowlanders because when she went to the lowlands to visit her grandfather, she could hear in his accent that he had an English tone when he said certain words.

  Looking at the man, even while sitting down she could tell that he was tall. His shoulders and neck were thick and wide. His hair was medium brown and went slightly past his shoulders. Her eyes were drawn to his dominant jaw line and then up to his eyes. They were as light blue as the sky in the early morning. He was strikingly handsome. He stood up and walked with her father to properly greet her.

  This gave Annella the opportunity to admire all of him. Towering over her, he looked like a Roman God. Every muscle appeared perfectly sculpted. She was correct in believing that he was a tall man. He stood about a foot over her head. The colors of his kilt were green and red and showed off his large calves. His stomach muscles and chest, she could tell under his white tunic, must have been solid and strong. And his arms appeared just as powerful as the rest of him.

  At least this one is good looking, she thought. She wondered what it would be like to be held in such big arms as his. The warmth and protection she would feel while he tightened his hold around her. Where did that thought come from? I should no’ be having these wanton thoughts, I am no’ marrying him, she scolded herself.

  “Annella lass, this is Laird Rory MacKinnon, Chieftain of the MacKinnon clan at Dunakin Castle. I had known his father Laird Duncan since we were wee bairns. God rest his soul,” her father said a little choked up when he mentioned his old friend.

  “My father often spoke verra highly of ye, my laird,” he replied.

  Her father smiled in acknowledgement. “This is my eldest daughter, Annella.”

  As he introduced Annella as his daughter, Rory was taken aback in surprise. Hamish was not what one would call an attractive man by any means. He was a giant Highlander with a heavy red beard and protruding round belly. It was hard to believe that this beautiful petite lass who was standing in front of him, was his daughter.

  Hamish turned his attention to Annella and said, “Laird MacKinnon has come to ask for…”

  Immediately Annella’s heart dropped in her chest. She pleaded to herself, Dinna say my hand, please dinna say my hand.

  “ … men to join him and for supplies,” her father continued. “They have traveled from the Isle of Skye on an important mission to Stirling.”

  “Good day, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet ye,” Rory said as he slightly bowed his head.

  Annella raised her brow in confusion. Trying to compose herself and control her breathing she simply responded by nodding her head in return.

  “My laird, there is food prepared for the nooning if ye and yer men will join us for a meal,” Hamish offered and placed his hand on his shoulder to direct him back towards the dais.

  Rory could tell that Annella was fairly nervous as she lightly bit her bottom lip. Her lips were plush and soft pink. They were kissable lips. Rory wondered what they would taste like. Her large round eyes were a beautiful hazel color and she had a small trace of freckles on the bridge of her nose. He had bedded many women before but none of them stirred his groin the way she was causing him now.

  As much as Rory wanted to lift her skirt and indulge in his carnal pleasure, he had more important matters to attend. Besides, she was innocent and he did not have the right nor would he ever take what wasn’t his.

  During the meal, Annella sat next to her father and listened to the men re-tell the rumors they had heard about the English. Paying attention had become increasingly difficult as Rory, who sat adjacent to her, kept staring at her. Trying to focus on the conversation, she gathered that scouts had infiltrated an English camp and heard they were erecting a plan to attack at Stirling Castle.

  Annella knew that for years the English tried quite harshly to rid Scotland of those whom did not pledge their allegiance to the English King Edward. They did so by imprisonment, hangings or at the end of their swords. Warriors had fought long and hard for Scotland’s independence. They have already seen many victories but have equally lost as many as well.

  “And after all we have already sacrificed; ye believe that the English may succeed?” Annella asked sounding slightly pretentious.

  “It is quite possible, my lady. That is why it is important to gather men to support our cause. But surely such talk is of nay interest to ye my lady.”

  “And why would I no’ be interested? I may no’ ken much of politics and war strategies my laird, but I ken enough and fight for the same causes as ye do,” she defended herself.

  Rory gave her a crossed look which made Annella feel offended. She thought that he must be the type to not care for an opinion from a lass.

  “Ye ken where my allegiance lies. I’d lay down my life for my countrymen and take wit me as many of those dammed Sassenachs as I could,” Hamish vowed. “I may be old but I still have some fight in me yet. If it weren’t for this blasted bad leg of mine, I would gladly join ye.”

  “Thank ye, but that is no’ necessary, my laird,” Rory responded. “It will take a good week to get there if we ride hard. I am to meet with William Wallace before those bastard English are expected to arrive. Yer assistance will be greatly appreciated and ye will be rewarded for yer courtesy.”

  “I dinna seek a reward. My keep may no’ be a large stronghold as others, but it is formidable and our crops are aplenty. Alastair will help ye train the men. He is a good mon and a well-trained warrior. I trust him wit me life.”

  Looking at his daughter, he smiled. “Annella, tell Berta to have rooms prepared for Laird MacKinnon and his men.”

  “Aye, Father.”

  Annella stood up and headed towards the stairs. As soon as her father had asked her to go have rooms prepared, Rory noticed that she jumped at the opportunity to leave. He was surprised to see that she wasn’t taking the steps two at a time. Rory grinned in amusement.

  At the top of the stairs, Annella ran into Berta who was standing on the top step peering down at the visitors.

  “Oh my lady, he is a handsome mon. Did he come to
ask for yer hand?” Berta asked with much enthusiasm.

  “Nay, thank God. He and his men are here asking for supplies. They have been requested to go on a special mission by William Wallace himself. They are just passing through and I expect them to be gone in the next day or two, and the sooner the better. In the meantime, can you please have the guest rooms prepared? ”

  “Aye, my lady,” Berta muttered and opened the door to Annella’s chamber.

  Annella sat on the edge of her bed watching Berta as she pulled a large wooden tub across the floor and placed it into the center of the room. Bucket by bucket she began to fill the tub from a cauldron that was heating the water over the fire. All the while, Annella could not stop her wanton thoughts. The image of those mysterious blue eyes and the way he looked at her would not leave her mind.

  “Yer bath is ready, my lady. If ye will excuse me, I will go and prepare the rooms for our guests. I will be back to help get ye ready for bed.”

  “Spitfire, that one is,” Hamish said while his daughter walked away, “and stubborn as a boar.”

  Rory curled his lip. Somehow this intrigued him as he was always up for a challenge.

  “It has been my experience that most lasses are, my laird.”

  “Aye. Be glad ye dinna have a daughter. I have been trying to find her a suitor but she is being most difficult.”

  “Perhaps, ye will find one soon. If ye would excuse me, my laird, I must speak wit my men.”

  Rory’s cousin Ewan was one of the men that accompanied him to Dunstan. He was second in command of their army and Rory’s most trusted friend. They had seen many battles together and could always depend on watching each other’s backs.