Page 1 of Taken By the Highland Villain
CHAPTER 1
“Och,what a sweet, lovely bairn ye are. Aye, that ye are.” Valerie Blackwood finished wrapping a clean blanket around her newborn niece, marveling as she did so.
Ten months ago, she and her sisters would never have imagined having the good fortune they were currently enjoying. After watching their youngest sister, Brigid, being carried off by their grandfather’s men, they had all imagined the worst fate possible. But it hadn’t happened.
Instead, Brigid had gained a loving husband, and the rest of them had gained a clan. Just the previous season, they had been formally declared members of Clan MacKane, kin to Laird MacKane, his wife, and now their daughter.
The bairn whimpered fretfully, and Valerie turned back to where Brigid lay in her husband’s arms, exhausted from labor, while their oldest sibling worked to clean away the dirty sheets and towels and lay out new ones. “Is everything all right?”
“Aye. Everything’s perfect, even with the bairn born seven days earlier than expected. She has a good weight and good lungs on her.”
Valerie smiled wryly, remembering how the babe had screamed loud enough to send Brigid’s husband, Conall, charging into the room, afraid someone was dying.
Despite all the noise of childbirth, he could be stoic and wait outside the doors like men are supposed to do, but one squall from a bairn and he’s at his wits’ end, chargin’ in here like a bull.
Most likely, he’ll be wrapped around his daughter’s fingers afore she’s seen her first fortnight—he’s already so protective and concerned for her and Brigid.
“Good. Megan will be happy to hear it.”
Their other sister was out hunting and gathering more herbs with the help of MacKane’s healer, to ensure Brigid’s smooth and quick recovery.
Valerie soothed the bairn with a little bounce and a rocking motion of her arms. “It is still such a surprise—our Brigid the first to have a bairn. I thought for certain it would be ye or me, Lily.”
“Och, nae me. I thought perhaps ye, when Faither made that terrible bargain, but…” Lily trailed off.
“It wasnae to be, and I’m glad of that.” Valerie shrugged her shoulders. “And it doesnae matter, now that we have this perfect little lass.” She cooed and cradled the bairn closer, causing the child to make a sleepy, contented noise.
She’d wake up soon and want her mother for her first feeding, but for now, Valerie was content to hold the wee bairn and rock her.
A commotion outside the door caught her attention, and she turned with a frown. “Whatever can that be?”
She couldn’t imagine Conall’s man-at-arms allowing anyone to disturb them while Brigid was in labor, and for the sound to reach this deep into the castle…
Whoever was causing the disturbance was being quite loud. All of them listened with growing concern—and in Conall’s case, increasing ire—as the voices grew louder.
Brigid still looked too pale and too worn out to deal with any disturbance, and from the look in his eyes, Conall was going to tear whoever had dared disturb them limb from limb. Lily was needed at Brigid’s side to care for the new mother and the bairn.
That left Valerie.
She moved to Conall’s side as he laid Brigid in the freshly made bed and handed him the newborn babe. “Here. Ye hold her for a while. I’ll go deal with whatever trouble there is.”
Conall’s jaw clenched. “Ye dinnae need to. My duty as Laird…”
“Right now, yer duty is to be a supportive husband to yer wife and a faither to yer daughter. Rest easy, I can handle whatever trouble there is.”
Valerie patted him on the shoulder, bent to give Brigid a quick kiss on the forehead, then slipped out of the room and followed the sound of raised voices down the hall, out of the family wing, and into the main corridor.
The main corridor was crowded with men. Those with their backs to her wore MacKane tartan, and in the middle of them stood a tall, broad-shouldered man she knew all too well—Oliver, Conall’s brother and man-at-arms.
Opposite them stood a group of armed men wearing tartan she knew almost as well as that of Clan MacKane—Clan MacOlley—and in the center stood Laird MacOlley himself.
Valerie’s stomach tightened.
Nathan Cullen, Laird of Clan MacOlley, was a tall, suave man with long red hair that he kept impeccably brushed and tied back, brown eyes that reminded her of mud, and good looks that had made many a lass swoon at his feet. He was charming, sophisticated, and wealthy, laird of a prosperous clan, and considered by many one of the most desirable men in the Highlands.
Valerie couldn’t stand him.
From the first time she’d met him, he’d reminded her far too much of her mother’s stories of her grandfather. Her dislike of him had only increased after years serving aboard a ship with her father. She’d met far too many men like Nathan Cullen to fall prey to the shallow words and empty smiles that everyone else thought so charming.