Page 1 of Laird of Sighs (His Highland Heart #5)

CHAPTER 1

SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS, SUMMER, 1413

“ I ’ve been looking all over for ye,” Anders Sutherland told his twin Stellan when he found him in the stable tightening the girth around his horse.

“Tormund and I were going out for a wee hunt. If ye want to come with us, ye’d best hurry. He should be here any minute.”

Anders shook his head. “Send him if ye want, but we canna go.”

Stellan dropped his forehead onto his saddle and then straightened, frowning. “Dinna tell me. Da wants to see us.”

Anders grinned. Their twin connection that let them sense what the other felt worked best at close proximity. “I dinna have to say a word. Ye ken he does.”

Stellan sighed, unbuckled the girth, and lifted the saddle from his mount’s back. “Do ye ken what Da wants?”

“Nay, but I saw a ghillie go into Da’s solar and out again no’ too long ago.”

“So, news of some sort. Mayhap Domnhall is on the move again.”

“Back to his island, I hope.” After the bloody battle called Red Harlaw two years before, Domnhall of the Isles and the Duke of Albany’s man, the Earl of Mar, had continued their attempts to lay claim to the Ross territory south of Sutherland.

“An end to their dispute over Ross would be good news.” Stellan finished stripping the blanket and tack from his mount in time for Tormund to arrive.

“Dinna tell me,” he said and groaned.

“We willna,” Anders and Stellan answered in unison.

Stellan shrugged. “I dinna ken how long this will take. Ye’d best go without me.”

“Ye are going to waste this beautiful morning?” Tormund pursed his lips. “Ye ken where we were headed. Catch up if ye can. In the meantime, I’ll see if any of the other lads want to go.”

“Mariota might want to take Valkyrie out,” Stellan suggested, knowing his wife liked nothing better than to watch her hawk on the hunt. “Dinna let her ride too far or too fast,” he cautioned. She was carrying their second child.

“I’ll see if she wants to go,” Tormund promised and left them. Stellan hung his mount’s tack on a peg and tossed the blanket over the stall’s wall, then turned to Anders. “I’m ready.”

They entered the laird’s empty solar together, then doubled back out to the great hall.

“Where did he go?” Stellan’s annoyance at being summoned to an empty solar was plain in his tone.

Anders shook his head and perched one haunch on a trestle table top, content to wait. “I dinna ken, but since he sent me after ye, he shouldna be gone long.”

A few minutes later, their father walked up to them and gestured toward the solar with a rolled up vellum in his hand. Once behind his desk, he dropped into his seat. They settled into chairs opposite his desk while he unrolled the missive. “Seamus MacKay sends word that he needs our help.”

“What kind of help?” Stellan punctuated his question with a frown.

Anders knew what he had to be thinking. Relations between the two clans had improved dramatically when Stellan’s new wife Mariota became the MacKay laird, and continued even after she abdicated in her friend Seamus’ favor in order to marry Stellan and move to Sutherland. Seamus had been in power long enough to have rooted out any overt challenges to his leadership. But there had been trouble in MacKay before Seamus took over. If he was asking for help, discontent within the clan leftover from the time of Mariota’s father’s lairdship must have made its way out of the shadows. Or was it something else?

“Naught to do with Seamus,” Sutherland said. “The MacKay healer needs a supply of herbs for a wee lad who canna breathe as well as he should. Their healer is nearly out of it. Their supply spoiled after someone left a window open in their herbal and a storm blew in. ’Tis out of season now. I showed Seamus’ request to our healer. She tells me we have what they need in plenty. The sooner we get it to MacKay, the better for the bairn.”

Anders exchanged a look with his twin. “So, ’tis urgent?”

“Aye. Stellan, ye have made the trip more times than most.”

“It takes a good part of three days, but could be done faster if needed.”

“What about sailing?” Anders couldn’t think of anyone who’d timed the trip to MacKay by sea. “Surely ’twould be faster to sail up the coast than to make the trip on land.”

“The sea route is too dangerous to depend on,” Sutherland cautioned, lifting his chin. “Save in a time of great need.”

“Do ye remember the question Mariota posed when she first came here?” Stellan asked Anders.

“Aye, and we didna have an answer for her. Then.” He lifted an eyebrow at his twin.

At their father’s questioning look, Stellan added, “Mariota once asked about the fastest way to get from Sutherland to MacKay. ’Twas never an issue, though we toyed with the idea of making a contest of it.”

“We could do that. One of us rides, one takes a birlinn and a crew.” Anders had every expectation his father would laugh him and Stellan out the door. It wasn’t the first time they had brought their father an untried idea. Some had been innovative, some foolish. Anders braced himself for a refusal.

“I’d tell ye both to forget it,” their father said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on top of his desk, his fingers interlinked, “but the MacKay healer’s need is real.”

After a great deal of discussion, the twins agreed that Stellan would ride northwest across Sutherland and MacKay territory to reach the MacKay stronghold on the Kyle of Tongue on Scotland’s northern coast. Anders would sail a birlinn through the Pentland Firth between the northeastern tip of mainland Scotland and the Orkney isles. Despite excellent chances of being battered by the winds and strong currents in that passage, Anders was betting that sailing would be significantly faster—if the weather held and the tides ran in their favor—while his older twin believed they knew the overland route well enough that Anders couldn’t possibly arrive at MacKay first.

Their father’s gaze moved to Stellan. “Ye willna travel alone,” he added with another frown. “Ye will take sufficient escort.”

Stellan nodded.

Sutherland shifted his gaze to Anders. “Ye will round up a crew. Experienced sailors all. I am concerned about those waters between Sinclair and Orkney—as must ye be. The Pentland is no place for novices.” The Sutherland birlinns varied in size, but most needed a crew of as many as a dozen men to row if the wind failed. A dozen experienced sailors would be a challenge to find.

“We’ve gotten through it twice before.” Anders knew their father wouldn’t take that as a boast. It wasn’t. The seas in that area were known to be dangerous, and no one took that passage lightly. Many ships had been lost in those waters. “’Tisna easy, but if the weather holds, we can do it. I’ll bring Tomas. He’ll relish the chance to fight the Pentland again, and he can help pick the rest of the crew.”

“Ye are no’ to chance it unless conditions are favorable,” Sutherland demanded as he stood. “Summer storms are unpredictable. I willna lose either of ye to this competition. The goal is to get the needed herbs to MacKay, no’ to take daft risks. Stellan is likely to reach there first, and the supplies ye carry, while helpful until the next harvest, will no’ be so urgently needed. If sea conditions threaten, ye will turn back.”

“I could take that as a challenge.” Anders crossed his arms over his chest as he took a deep breath, doing his best to tamp down on the excitement that was starting to bubble in his blood. His father would see it and call the whole thing off. MacKay would get the needed herbs, but neither twin would take them.

Sutherland snorted. “I kenned ye might. But dinna disobey me in this. That strait is dangerous.”

Anders nodded. His father was right. One never knew until reaching the Pentland what one might face. It was deadly. But if conditions were favorable, it might also be the fastest way to reach the north shore of Scotland and MacKay.

A few hours later, Stellan and Mariota watched from a table across the great hall as Anders rounded up the men he planned to take with him from the crowd still gathered after the midday meal. The rumble of conversation and laughter made the air of excitement in the clan obvious. News of the upcoming contest had spread throughout the keep. The men wanted to go with him or with Anders. The women worried, but also seemed to be discussing who was most likely to win.

Tomas came in from the bailey with another man, saw them and nodded, then took a seat with the other men Anders had gathered.

Stellan was glad to see Anders still planned to include Tomas. No one else had his experience through the Pentland Firth. Anders had mentioned Tomas when they met with their father earlier, but since then, Anders might have decided on someone younger and stronger.

Mariota took a sip from her cup of cider, her gaze on the men with Anders. “Ye are no’ really thinking of doing this?”

Stellan squeezed her free hand, pulling her gaze to him. “We must. Ye ken why.”

Early in the morning, he and Anders would collect the herb that was the reason for their trip, then head out. The healer was busy packing it into small pouches intended to keep it dry. They would be dispersed among the different horsemen going with Stellan, and others packed even more carefully against getting wet to travel by boat with Anders. Stellan didn’t like to upset Mariota, but in this case, the Laird deemed the risk worth taking. They would ready what they needed tonight and in the morning, they would go.

“Why no’ both travel by land? Choose different routes and find the fastest way overland?”

“Because we ken Sutherland and we’ve been between the border and MacKay often enough to ken that ground, too.”

A few minutes later, Anders finished speaking to his men and joined them.

Mariota repeated her objections.

“Of course we are doing this,” Anders told her and flashed his irresistible grin.

Stellan could see that it failed to have Anders’ desired effect.

“We’ve been thinking about this since ye asked whether ’twas faster by land or sea when ye first came here. We were riding along the firth,” Stellan told her. “Do ye no’ remember that?”

“I do, of course,” she replied. “I dinna think ye’d be daft enough to actually test it, or that yer da would agree. Ye ken how long it takes to ride to MacKay. Taking herbs for the bairn willna change that. Why must ye make a race out of it?”

“We have never ridden to MacKay with the intent of making the best time possible. Nor have we sailed there from Dunrobin. And we must both go at the same time so the conditions are as close to the same as possible for both of us,” Anders explained, his tone unexpectedly the voice of reason.

Mariota didn’t look convinced.

“There is naught reasonable about this daft idea of yers,” she complained. “’Tis unnecessary and puts both of ye at risk for nay reason. What if ye get hurt or yer birlinn sinks or?—”

“That willna happen,” Stellan told her and put an arm around her. “Ye dinna need to fash . We ken what we’re doing.” Mariota was never this fearful. He would expect her to demand to go with them, not hear the ring of panic in her voice. The bairn she was carrying, their second, due near midwinter, must be making her anxious.

“And I ken ye are both daft. I’ve married into a clan of eejits !”

“She’s worried about ye, Brother,” Anders assured Stellan.

“She should be worried about ye. Ye are the one who will be sailing.”

Anders shrugged and held out his hands, palms up. “’Tis what I prefer.”

“And I am happier on dry land,” Stellan said and chucked Mariota under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “So, ye see, I’ll be well.”

“Ye had better be.” Her lips compressed into a thin line. “The last time ye came home from MacKay, ye were full of holes.”

“The man who put them there is dead, Love, as well ye ken.”

Alber MacKay had harassed and assaulted Mariota and her hawk, Valkyrie, into running from MacKay into Sutherland territory. There, she happened upon a Sutherland hunting party led by Stellan. She never would have done such a risky thing had her father, the MacKay laird, believed her when she complained of Alber’s treatment and the peril he threatened. But her father had taken in Alber as a young lad after his father was killed. He didn’t believe the man Alber had grown into capable of such behavior, or that she had successfully defended herself against him. After Alber got his hands around Mariota’s throat and she fought him off, she knew she was out of time and out of alternatives. She snuck out of MacKay in the middle of the night, a decision that changed her life and MacKay—and one that eventually pitted Stellan against Alber in a vicious fight that led to Alber’s death and almost to Stellan’s. He knew reminders of those days would only upset her, and so did Anders.

Anders raised a hand. “Do ye nay care what might happen to me?”

“Captured by Viking raiders?” Mariota replied. “Shipwrecked in enemy territory? Lost at sea in a storm? How many ways can a birlinn come to grief?” Mariota ticked the alternatives on her fingers.

Anders faked a shudder. “I think those are quite enough,” he told her.

“At least ye’ll have a crew with ye,” Stellan said. “Ye canna row a ship that size alone.”

“Ye’ll have an escort. I told ye Da wouldna agree to ye making such a trip by yerself, even if ye do have the fastest horse in Sutherland.”

“Nor would I,” Mariota chimed in. “But I ken ye are wiser than to risk that. There are too many places and too many ways to come to grief. I’ll be thinking about every one of them while ye are gone.”

After the evening meal, Stellan and Mariota returned to their chamber. He could see she was still unhappy about his upcoming trip. Normally, she was the one soothing his frustrations, but tonight, he would have to care for her. It was something he enjoyed doing and something he would miss while they were separated. But that separation would make homecoming and their reunion all the sweeter.

While Stellan filled his travel pack, she paced around their chamber, moving things from one place to another and back again, and rubbing her rounding belly. Her favorite cat, Carlie, watched with narrowed amber eyes from her perch on Mariota’s pillow. “I’ll go up to the nursery and make sure Beathan is settled for the night,” she finally said and moved toward the door.

Stellan intercepted her and wrapped her in his arms. “He is fine. Laire is well used to caring for him, and she will fetch us if he needs us.”

“I ken she will. I?—”

“Our son’s nurse is nay the issue. Ye are fashed . Love, ye dinna need to be. I will be well. But I will miss ye and Beathan, and this wee one, as well,” he added, putting a hand on her warm, round belly.

“What if aught happens and ye canna return before the birth?”

“’Tis months away, Love. I’ll be back in a sennight or a wee more.” He bent and traced his lips over hers. “I’ll think of ye every moment I am gone.”

“I’ll think of ye, as well, Husband. And miss ye in my bed.”

“I’m nay gone yet,” Stellan told her and pulled her closer. He stroked her spine and down over her firm arse. “We still have hours together. I ken how I would like to spend them. Do ye?”

“Ach, Stellan, ye ken I do.”

“Then let me help ye,” he said and turned her so he could unlace her kirtle. He slipped it from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor around her, leaving her in her shift. He picked her up and placed her on the edge of the bed, then dropped to his knees to remove her boots.

“Yer turn,” she told him, her gaze warm and soft as she studied him.

He stood and kicked off his boots, then stripped out of everything else.

“Ye are the handsomest man in all of Scotland,” Mariota told him. “Nay other can compare to ye.”

“Nay even my twin?”

“He isna ye. Ye ken fine I can tell the difference between ye. Did I no’ prove that to ye while we were still at MacKay?”

“Aye, Love, ye did, and I am forever grateful.”

“As ye should be.”

“And how may I show my lady my gratitude this e’en?”

“That, ye ken fine as well,” she said and gave him the smile he’d been hoping for.

Stellan stroked the bottom of her foot, making her laugh, and scaring Carlie into abandoning her warm perch on the pillow for a cushioned chair by the hearth. Then he bent to the joyful task of seducing his wife. Packing could wait.