Highlander's Kiss (Clan Matheson #1)

“Where are your hairpins?” Tavish tucked an errant lock of her hair behind her ear. “You had them in before you left for the chamber.”


“Oh dear.” She patted her head. “I left them on the table when Cherub combed my hair. They were a gift from my parents and I cannae lose them.” She slipped off the bench. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I can retrieve them for you if you wish.” He rose.

“Nay, I’ll be quick.” With one hand on his shoulder, she pushed him back down then snuck around the room and down the darkened corridor. In the chamber assigned to them, she picked up her hairpins and pinned them back in place. These had been the very last gift Mother and Father had given her. These sapphires match your eyes, her mother had said then slid a matching set into Arabel’s hair as well. Mother had hugged them both, held them tight. That moment was embedded in her mind, her precious hairpins a most treasured keepsake. Soon, she’d hold Mother again. She had to. For if they truly were dead, then her grief would rise as sharply and as painfully as it had the first time. Mourning them all over again, would break her heart.

Outside the window, the rain eased and the clouds broke apart. A glimpse of blue sky dotted through. She thrust open the garden door. At the castle, a guard shouted and the portcullis rose from within the arched front gate, its clunky sound reverberating along the shore and across the grassy field toward her.

Horses’ hooves pounded and a dozen armed warriors rode out of the bailey. In single file, the warriors galloped along the trail leading farther around the craggy tip then disappeared.

Another warrior rode out of the keep in leather pants and a thick fur vest over a dark shirt. He galloped along the grassy verge of the inner channel of the loch and on a direct path toward her. His fiery red hair brushed his shoulders and his dirty blood-red aura swirled all about.

’Twas Jeremiah.

Her heart leapt within her chest.





Chapter 12


“Tavish, Jeremiah rides this way.” A gentle hum whispered through Julia’s mind and her heart lost one very necessary beat.

“Are you certain?”

“Very.” Clutching Jeremiah from behind sat a cloaked woman. “Mother’s with him. I hear the gentle hum of her aura.”

“Stay right where you are. I’m coming.”

“Mother!” She screamed her name as she stumbled outside. Rushing along the path with her mother’s gentle hum increasing in tempo, she yelled frantically and waved her hands.

Jeremiah hauled his horse to a stop next to her and sneered, a look of victory sparking bright in his eyes. “Well, well. If it isnae Julia, my wife-to-be. About time you arrived.”

“I will never be your wife. I am here to rescue my kin and naught more.”

“Julia?” Mother pushed her hood back, heaved free of Jeremiah and jumped to the ground. Mother grasped her, held her tight. “What are you—I cannae believe you’re—how did you—oh goodness, I’ve missed you.”

“You’re alive. You’re really alive.” Tears pooled in her eyes and flowed down their mashed cheeks. “Where’s Father?”

“At the castle. He’s gravely ill and Jeremiah agreed to bring me to the healer for the herbs I need. I must bring his fever down if he’s to survive.”

“I agreed on one account.” Jeremiah bounded to the ground, his holstered claymore bobbing at his back. “You were to keep your hood in place and no’ expose yourself, even to the healer.”

“But my daughter—”

“Julia!” Tavish roared her name as he raced across the field toward her, Tor, Cherub, and Kirk one step behind him.

“Damn it,” Jeremiah spat. “And now we have even more Mathesons here on our land.” He grabbed Julia around the waist, tossed her up onto his destrier and bounded in behind her. Arms pinned tight either side of her, he slammed his knees into his horse’s flanks and they flew back along the trail toward the castle.

“Mother! Tavish!” She shoved against Jeremiah’s punishing hold. Behind them on the trail, Tor nabbed her mother and whisked her back through their chamber’s open garden door. The others had gone, had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

A breeze churned the grass and whipped the long stalks about then a blast of wind hit her. Jeremiah’s horse reared onto its hind legs and whinnied. Its hooves crashed down and she went flying.

“Got you.” Tavish scooped her out of thin air and plastered her against his rock hard chest. Cherub and Kirk stood right behind him. “Let’s just get one thing straight, for once and for all. Where you are, is where I need to be.”

“Aye, I agree.”

“Julia, come.” Cherub nabbed her hand and tugged her backward.

Jeremiah bounded from his horse, landed on the ground and stormed toward Tavish. He swung his claymore from its holster and Tavish thrust his sword high and blocked Jeremiah’s fierce blow. “Who are you?” Jeremiah scowled at him.