Taken by a Highland Laird Read online

  Story Overview

  The last thing Lindsay expects when she visits Milly’s home in New Hampshire is to be thrust back in time to thirteenth century Scotland days before the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Worse yet, captured by the English. Using her wits and ability to wrap men around her little finger, she survives long enough to be rescued by a band of Scotsmen. One of them, a rigid Highland chieftain determined to protect his country, rarely lets her out of his sight. A man, as it turns out, who is immune to her allure...or so it seems.

  From the moment Clan MacLomain decides to save Scotland’s history, Laird Conall Hamilton knows he needs to be a part of it. What he does not foresee is a beautiful twenty-first century actress crossing his path. More so, that they end up caught in an obligatory kiss that sparks an infamous battle. A kiss, as Fate would have it, that takes them on an adventure through time to both the Action at Earnside Skirmish and the Action at Happrew.

  Joining first Sir William Wallace then King Robert the Bruce, Conall, and Lindsay end up on a journey that will leave neither unscathed. Though determined to keep each other at arm’s length, desire simmers, reeling them ever closer. Inner demons are faced as they navigate a powerful connection neither saw coming. A bond so intense and passionate that it might very well help them defeat the enemy and save a nation.

  Series Overview

  The term a new beginning brings to mind many things. Hope and opportunity. A fresh start. For the MacLomains and the rest of Scotland, the year twelve ninety-six meant anything but. Instead, it marked the beginning of a new and oppressed era fraught with two long wars with England. This particular series revolves around the First War of Scottish Independence that took place from twelve ninety-six to thirteen twenty-eight.

  Heroes are often lost to time and folklore, especially when magic is involved. The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning shares those mystical tales. Stories about Scottish lairds that came to the aid of Sir William Wallace and King Robert the Bruce. Brave warriors and their lasses who single handedly changed the face of history...or so the story goes.

  Taken by a Highland Laird

  The MacLomain Series

  A New Beginning

  Book Two

  By

  Sky Purington

  COPYRIGHT © 2017

  Taken by a Highland Laird

  Sky Purington

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Edited by Cathy McElhaney

  Cover Art by Tara West

  Published in the United States of America.

  Contents

  Story Overview

  Series Overview

  Pronunciations

  Introduction

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Coming Soon

  Dear Reader Letter

  Previous Releases-Best Reading Order

  Family Trees

  About the Author

  Pronunciations

  By popular demand, I’ll now be including a glossary of pronunciations for Scottish and Viking words that are a little trickier to enunciate. The following words are ones that you’ll run across in this particular book.

  Iosbail (ees-uh-bel)

  Aðísla (ah-ue-ee-slah)

  Naðr Véurr (nahr vuu-ah)

  Rona (rohn-ah)

  Geamhradh (gee-ahr-ick)

  Faroese (fâr′ō-ēz′,-ēs′)

  If you come across words you’d like to see included when reading my books, please shoot me an email because every story’s pronunciation glossary is a work in progress. I love to hear from readers and consider your feedback valuable. Thank you so much for reading!

  Email me anytime at [email protected] or message me on Facebook.

  Introduction

  Having already been whisked back in time by a magical Claddagh ring, Lindsay has been navigating medieval Scotland by relying on her skills as an actress. More so, by utilizing a powerful magical gift she has long kept secret. One that helped her not only survive an English encampment on the brink of battle but also to manipulate its very commanders.

  Soon after, she was rescued by a band of Highland wizards determined to save Scotland’s history. Now she’s on the opposite side of the River Forth facing the Englishmen who so recently held her captive. Knowing full well she can help in ways no one else can, she has offered to put her life on the line to aid the Scots. And so the story goes...

  Prologue

  11 September 1297

  Stirling, Scotland

  Hours Before the Battle of Stirling Bridge

  WILLIAM WALLACE SAT back, crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a look she would never forget. An opportunistic expression mixed with surprise and confusion. “So you will be my spy?”

  “I will,” Lindsay confirmed. “While Adlin and his friends seem nice enough, it’s safe to say I know them about as well as I know you.”

  “And the more friends, the better, aye?” Wallace gave her a look. “Some would say a good friend would give me insight into the upcoming battle.”

  “A good friend would do the opposite.” Lindsay issued a knowing grin. “But I’ll be sure to tell you everything that happens between now and the next time we meet.”

  “Which should be hours from now,” he said.

  More likely years but he didn’t need to know that.

  “As far as I can tell, Adlin has been very forthright with you,” she remarked. “So I’m curious why you would ask this of me to begin with.”

  A puzzled expression flickered across his face then vanished before he shrugged. She had seen that look countless times before. The face of a man being unknowingly compelled. It was a gift of hers to get men to do things they otherwise would not. Right now, that was making sure she and William formed an alliance. Spying seemed as plausible a reason as any.

  “There are always things to be heard,” William murmured. “Even from those such as Adlin.” His eyes leveled with hers. “Especially about future battles and where they might be, aye?”

  She nodded but offered no further comment as they resumed eating breakfast. Because she was so important to today’s battle, William had requested that she remain in his tent the night before. Though unorthodox, she agreed. As it was, she had spent the night in far more threatening tents lately.

  “I should go check on Milly,” she finally announced as she dabbed a cloth daintily on either side of her mouth and stood. “Before things get, well, you know...too busy.”

  “’Tis a brave thing yer doing luring the Sassenach, lass.” William escorted her to the entrance. “Stay safe, Lindsay.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine with one of Adlin’s cousin’s protecting me.” She just hoped it wouldn't be the one she figured it would be. Since she was mysteriously whisked back in time from the twenty-first century, taken by the English then rescued by the Scots, Bryce, Graham and Conall had been vigilant protectors.

  “Aye, especially the one.” William grinned. “Ye know he’s been eying this tent all eve wondering about us. I might not be able to see him, but I can feel him.”

  Oh, she knew.

  And Laird Hamilton would soon find out exactly what she thought about that.

  Unfortunately, by the time she had her say it was already too late.

  Chapter One

  “YOU COULD SLOW down some,” she muttered under her breath as none other than Laird Conall Hamilton yanked her through the woods toward Stirling Bridge less than an hour later.

  “Not if they are to believe you are my prisoner,” he stated blandly, his hold on her wrist an unbreakable vice grip. Like a chain already trying to lock her down.

  Naturally, ever the hero, he had volunteered to bait the English alongside her. At least six foot five with broad shoulders and endless muscles she was no match for him physically. But mentally? Time would tell. Lindsay sighed as she stumbled along and put up a believable struggle. The truth was, Conall was as smart as he was strong and that, amongst other things, was getting on her nerves.

  Sure, being flung back in time to days before one of the most famous battles in Scottish history was daunting, but she had handled it. She had worked her magic on Hugh Cressingham then on John de Warenne, the Earl of Surrey. She had been what they needed her to be. But then that’s what she did for a living.

  She acted, and she did so very well.

  Again and again, over and over, no matter where she was.

  “The bloody Sassenach are watching you, lass,” Conall muttered. “They want you back.”

&nbs
p; “That’s what we’re counting on,” she reminded, nearly tripping on a root.

  Fog drifted in thick waves through the damp, pine-scented forest, obscuring far more than she would like. It hid things from her. Kept something from her. Up until this point, she had been strong but something about that, not being able to see beyond the fog, sent shivers through her. A chill and dread that, of all things, had her clutching the ring in her pocket for comfort.

  Guidance.

  Protection.

  But why would she feel that way?

  Even as she shook her head against the idea, she slid the Claddagh ring on. Unfortunately, it didn’t affect her fear in the least. If anything, it made her feel more vulnerable. Or was it really the ring? She frowned as her eyes went to Conall.

  “So what is your plan once we get close?” she said. “Because I thought I should be the one to put on the show since I am a professional actress and you’re ah...well, rather transparent.”

  “I suspect you will put on a show,” he acknowledged, clearly not all that impressed as he pulled her along. “I’ll be curious to see how well you perform.”

  Like Adlin and Bryce, he said ‘you’ instead of ‘ye’ when speaking with her. Evidently, it was how medieval MacLomains made it easier for twenty-first century women to understand them.

  “So why are you so upset?” Lindsay arched her brows, about over his attitude given their current circumstances. “Might it be because I spent the night in William’s tent?”

  Conall scowled. “Why would I care if you spent the night in his tent?”

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Because you have been smitten with me since the night all of you saved me from the English.”

  “Is that what you think?” His voice remained bland. “Or could you have misconstrued my vigilance in protecting a lass who tempts her own demise at every turn as affection?”

  She dodged another root, growing more irritated by the moment. “So ending up in the enemy’s camp against my will was tempting my own demise?” She inhaled deeply at his gall. “Are you serious?”

  “Ending up in Cressingham’s arms was tempting something,” he returned. “And God only knows what you were up to in the Earl’s tent.”

  She narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. They might have met a few days ago, but this was the most he had ever spoken to her. Where she had hoped they might be able to speak sooner, now she was of the mind that he had spared her.

  “Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind, Conall,” she said. “Because I highly doubt it has anything to do with me being in anyone’s arms but William’s—”

  That’s all she managed to get out before he whipped her around and backed her up against a tree. Half a breath later his lips were on hers. Stunned, she started to push him away but soon realized what he was up to. He was trying to make her former captors act rashly out of jealousy.

  Enough so that they would storm the bridge.

  So she acted for all she was worth and struggled. It wasn’t the first time she played this sort of part. She could do it. Kiss a stranger and make it believable. Just picture someone else in her mind. Someone worth kissing.

  The only problem was as her lips softened beneath his, she could only picture one man.

  Conall.

  Frustrated, but at the same time drawn, she was fairly certain she overacted the whole thing as she struggled against him while at the same time enjoyed it far more than anticipated. He tasted like some sort of mint and that tongue of his. When it teased along the thread of her lips, she found herself teasing right back.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually enjoyed kissing a man. More so, that it was a man who had given her nothing but attitude since they met.

  Well, mostly.

  Several nights ago when she had been under the influence of herbs, she recalled flashes of him being tender as he carried her across the River Forth. Then she remembered his warm arms around her as they traveled south and his soothing presence as she slept.

  So there was a softer side to him.

  It was that side she sensed in his kiss along with an unexpected jolt she had never felt before. A rush of heat and desire that caught her totally unaware. The vivid sensations were so strong that she completely forgot to struggle and became lost in the feel of him. Her entire world dwindled down to the talent of his lips and tongue and the warmth of his strong body so close to hers.

  In truth, nothing got through until a harsh chill met her skin and he stilled.

  Totally out of it, she struggled to catch her breath and gain her bearings. Were the English attacking? Was someone right behind her holding her at sword point? A few blinks later, she realized that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, she was no longer leaning against a tree but by the looks of it in a dimly lit jail cell. A torch hissed and spit from a nearby wall bracket, adding a smoky scent to the musty dampness.

  “Bloody hell,” Conall murmured as he stepped away and frowned.

  “Where are we?” She met his frown and looked around. “Please tell me we didn’t end up in an English castle somewhere.”

  “Nay.” Conall grabbed the torch, opened the rusty cell door and headed down a stone pathway, leaving her in utter darkness.

  “How chivalrous,” she muttered under her breath as she started feeling her way along. Unlike most, she found comfort in darkness, preferred it actually, not that anyone knew. After all, she made a point of putting herself in the limelight often and standing beneath the brightest lights possible.

  “Conall,” she called out, sure to sound distressed. “Where are you? Where are we? How could you just leave me—”

  “I’m here, lass,” he replied. His torchlight reappeared moments before he did. “Though I dinnae know the year with any certainty, I would say we’ve returned to my era. Thirteen twelve.”

  So she had traveled through time again. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because this is my castle,” he said as he replaced the torch. “After I had this section sealed off.”

  “Sealed off?” That didn’t sound good.

  “Aye.” He gestured that she follow him then headed back down the hallway. It seemed he had lit more torches in a larger but just as dismal area with no windows.

  “I can only assume we’re in your castle dungeons then,” she remarked as she watched him. He felt along a stone wall, murmuring chants.

  “Aye,” he muttered. “Like Castle MacLomain ‘tis one of verra few in Scotland that have dungeons.”

  Lindsay sighed as he tried to get beyond the wall with magic. Though it should be the last thing on her mind considering their circumstances, she kept replaying their kiss. Who knew Conall had it in him? She never would have guessed considering his stiff behavior.

  She licked her lips and eyed him, knowing full well it was the last thing she should be doing. The last thing she ever did with any man for that matter which probably should alarm her even more. Yet it didn’t as she fully appreciated how handsome he was. Better looking, in fact, than most actors she came across in Hollywood which was saying something.

  With his height and build, he could be cast in a great number of parts. Her eyes trailed up his long, well-formed legs. They weren’t body-builder muscular but lanky in a good way and led up to an ass that most male actors would gladly use as their butt-double in screenshots.

  He might be overly tall, but all his proportions were dead on. Enough so that he could pull off a wide variety of roles from action to even romantic drama. Her gaze went to his face. Oh, yes, he would do well in a romance. Cowboy, Sci-fi, Fantasy, it didn’t matter. Those classic yet rugged features would fit the bill across all spectrums. The jaw, cheekbones, sensual lips, thick dark brown hair with a hint of auburn then last but certainly not least those eyes.

  As if he knew she was checking him out, those eyes turned her way accompanied by a scowl. Even miserable, those icy orbs of his were stunning. Minty light sage with just the right amount of sexy crinkle at the corners, they were thickly lashed and made for the camera. Eyes like his would jump off the screen with the right lighting.