Terri Brisbin - The Highlander's Dangerous Temptation

* * *

It took him hours to find it and then he could not tell which direction was home. Every time he grew too afraid or too tired, he thought about his friends at the bottom of the gully and ran on. Night fell while he searched for home and he collapsed at some point, sleeping a few hours before waking and continuing on.

* * *

Daybreak found him no closer to finding home or help and he gave in to the terror and the guilt and cried for his friends.

And that’s when his father and uncle came charging through the forest on their horses. In a matter of hours, Athdar had managed to lead them back to the place where his friends lay injured and then he watched as the men in his clan rescued Robbie and the others from the ground below.

It was terrible. His heart hurt as each one was carried out. Only one moved and the silence as the boys were examined tore him apart. Soon, the completely desolate group made their way back to the keep.

Though the parents mostly whispered about the terrible accident, Athdar knew the truth—this was his doing. He had killed his friends just as much as if he’d pushed them from a cliff. For he had pushed them—with words, with insults—using their pride to edge them to the end and fling them into the darkness of the earthen pit. And when he could have saved them, he’d stumbled in the forest, losing his way and wasting precious hours that could have meant saving their lives.

And, even if no one pointed an accusing finger at him, he saw the sidelong glances and questioning stares as three of his friends were buried. He heard the whispered doubts about his part in it and wanted to scream out his guilt. But his father and mother tried to convince him it was not his fault and it had not happened the way he said it had. It was a terrible accident to be put behind him. A horrible event which would fade in time.

* * *

And it did. No one ever mentioned it—his father, the laird, forbade it. No one mentioned the children who had died or their parents who had moved away or the injuries to the other one who had survived. No one asked too many questions and Athdar was told relentlessly he must push it all away. In time, all thoughts and memories of it and those friends faded, until, within a few years, it was a muted, empty part of his past.

A part he no longer remembered.

But someone remembered.

Someone mourned their loss and sought solace in the madness brought by the sheer anguish and pain of it.

And that someone decided to seek justice against the one responsible, even if he did not remember.

Someone remembered.

Chapter One

Lairig Dubh, Scotland—AD 1375

‘Look! Look! There he is.’

The excited whisper drew Isobel’s attention. Her friend Cora rarely took notice of the opposite sex, so this was something different, something special. She turned to see who her friend was watching.

Athdar MacCallum, brother of the laird’s wife Jocelyn, strode through the yard, heading for the keep. From the decisive way he walked, looking neither right nor left, he had business with the laird and would not be slowed from his task. Still, he was a fine-looking man to gaze upon.

‘He is leaving to return home,’ she said. At Cora’s questioning frown, she nodded. ‘My father mentioned it this morn.’

‘Will he be here for the evening meal, do you think?’ Cora asked, watching her closely for her reply.

Isobel wanted to show her excitement much as Cora did, but she held back. If she showed her interest in Athdar, word would make it back to her father and then trouble would begin. Just mentioning his name usually caused her father to look extremely bothered. And bothered was not something she, or anyone, wanted her father to be.

The half-Norse, half-Scottish natural son of the Earl of Orkney did not suffer fools easily and at some time in the past, before even her birth, Athdar had done something very foolish and her father would never let it go. It mattered not that Athdar had been young and tended towards brash acts. It mattered not that he had suffered for his misjudgement. And it mattered not that the result had brought Jocelyn MacCallum to Lairig Dubh as the laird’s wife. All that mattered to her father was that Athdar’s character was lacking then and possibly still. Isobel turned away from the path and faced Cora.

‘I know not, Cora. I do not keep watch over his comings and goings.’

Though she would if she could.

As Isobel had watched her various cousins being matched and married these last couple of years and as she’d reached what she considered a marriageable age, the only man who had caught her attention was Athdar. Oh, it had nothing to do with his strong, muscled body or his piercing brown eyes or the way his long, brown hair framed the masculine angles of his face. Dabbing at the perspiration on her forehead with the back of her hand, Isobel realised she’d noticed his physical attributes much too much!

There was also the fact that he intrigued her. Always respectful of her, he spoke to her as though she had a mind and did not shy away from her as all the other men did. Someone who would stand up to her father was not a bad thing. He was a fair and competent man, according to the earl. Compassionate, according to his sister.

And Isobel could sense the pervasive sadness that lived within him and it called to something deep within her soul—she needed to be the one who gave him solace. Rather than drive or scare her away from him, it appealed to her. She shivered now as she glanced at him again.

Cora noticed her reaction, for her friend squinted and stared at her face. Then the girl smiled and nodded.

‘I think you are not so unaffected as you want me to believe, Isobel.’

‘Cora, he is kin through my father,’ she offered, hoping Cora would allow the issue to settle. Wiping her damp hands on her gown, she tossed her hair over her shoulders and took her friend’s hand. ‘Come, we have tasks to see to before dinner, whether Athdar attends or not.’

That had been a near thing. Her friend wisely let the subject drop though the man walked half the yard ahead of them as they also headed for the keep. Her mother was attending Lady Jocelyn in the solar and that gave her the reason to follow him inside. Her heart raced in her chest and she tried to keep the anticipation of speaking to him under control...and she might have if someone had not called out his name from behind her. Athdar paused and turned to see who had called out to him. As he did that, his gaze, those intense, brown eyes, fell on her.

Any attempt to continue to behave as though his attention was usual or customary in her life dissolved away when he winked and then smiled at her. She stopped where she stood and tried to remember to breathe. Cora had not been looking so she continued forwards a step or two before realising she’d left Isobel behind. Isobel forced a breath in and out and then glanced back, returning his smile. She was trying to think of something pithy to say to him when Ranald brushed by and stepped between them.

‘I am working in the practice yard, Dar,’ Ranald called out. ‘Come there when ye finish with the laird.’

Isobel watched as Athdar waved to Ranald, nodded his agreement and then turned to enter the keep. Ranald greeted both of them and then went back to the yard. Cora’s gaze followed his every step until Isobel cleared her throat to gain her attention. The blush that crept up her friend’s cheeks must be similar to the one she could yet feel heating her own. She waved her friend along, not commenting on Ranald’s obvious appeal to Cora.

As they entered and walked the corridor to the lady’s solar, Isobel decided that she would find a way to watch the two men practice in the yard later. Surely Cora would accompany her on her mission.