Page 1 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

1

It was a glorious fall afternoon with a light breeze rippling the changing leaves around the castle’s walls. High on the hill, Inverness Castle provided an open view of the river and highlands beyond. Kenna Gordon took in this view as she lay back on pillows of green velvet, nursing a glass of wine. Though the air was cool, the heat from the sun soaked into her skin, mixing with the wine in her blood to leave her in a sleepy daze.

Kenna used to love days like these, an ideal time to curl up on the cushions with her younger sister to nap or work on art and needlework. However, today, the view was soured by the stench of death and the whispers of horrors that the maids thought she couldn’t hear.

Only a week ago, her father had slammed the castle’s gates in the face of Mary, Queen of Scots under the order of the Earl of Huntly, Chief of Clan Gordon. Rising as quickly as the Queen’s fury was the fiercest of the Highland clans, led by Clan Fraser and Clan Munro. Ill-prepared and undermanned, the castle had barely lasted three days under siege before the futility of it all had set in, and her father had gone to open the gates himself.

Kenna was grateful—as that was what she was supposed to be—for Queen Mary had only executed her father, leaving her and her siblings unscathed. For now, at least. The terms of their lives had yet to be negotiated.

The muffled knock echoed through the room, almost immediately followed by the entrance of her two elder brothers, John and Thomas, both sporting red eyes and pallid complexions. It had been a sleepless week for them all. Yet, there was a brightness to each of them that gave her pause.

“Where have ye two been?” Kenna asked with the boldness only a younger sister could have before two Highland warriors. “I have been left to my own fer days.”

“Deepest sympathies fer yer troubles,” Thomas said, lifting the pitcher of wine and tipping it to her in a mock ‘cheers’ before pouring himself a glass, “but ye ken we had to make arrangements and the like. Didna have any time to keep ye entertained.”

“Fer Father?” Kenna asked, hope swelling in her chest.

To see her father’s body taken down from the wall and given a proper burial before it was sunken with rot would be a blessing far greater than any other. Her father had been a good man, so intelligent and so kind. His children deserved to see him for the last time while he was whole.

Thomas paused with the goblet at his lips, casting a glance at John as he said, “Nay, havena got to that one just yet.”

Thomas had always been the kinder of the two, similar to her father in every way. He had a quiet sort of strength, always calculating through his options before he lifted a finger so that he would not have to lift a fist.

John, on the other hand, would lift a fist and send it flying before he comprehended that the little voice in his head was actually a thought—Kenna assumed that they were hard for him to recognize because he had so few.

“Twas our family’s future we’ve just arranged. Nay, not just the future for us, but the future of the entire clan,” John said, beaming at Kenna, who thought it altogether inappropriate to look so cheerful at a time like this. “Aye, it has all been settled, and our heads will stay both on our necks and in our castle.”

Kenna raised a brow at the news. “‘Tis quite impressive, dear John, especially knowing how little gold remains in our stores. One might ask what it is ye found to sell.”

“Always quick to ask questions ye’ll not like answers to,” Thomas replied with a smile. “The gold may not be stacked as high as it ought, but there is more than enough fer a dowry.”

Kenna stilled, feeling the wine burn her stomach. “Fer whom?”

“Well, fer ye, of course,” John said, looking as giddy as a man who came stumbling out of a whore house.

Thomas was immediately beside her, topping up her goblet with more wine before she could properly begin screaming at them.

“The whole of Scotland now kens how poorly Castle Inverness can defend itself. A man with the Queen’s ear told us that Queen Mary and her men don’t fear us being left at their backs, so long as we show our loyalty to the crown. A marriage between a Gordon lass and a clansman of the Queen’s choosing is enough for her to leave us be.”

“No,” Kenna replied. “Absolutely not!”

“Kenna, ‘twas the only option,” Thomas said with a sigh as if they were children again and Kenna was throwing a fit over a lost game of cards.

“Only option? Ye mean to say the most convenient one fer ye, who is not to be sold like an animal at market. Thinking only of yerselves, finding ways to play ‘Laird’ in yer castle fer a wee longer. Too bad the Earl of Huntly is likely to take it from ye as soon as it pleases him, while I’ll be a hostage to the Queen till the end of my days. Ye ken father would never have allowed—”

John’s hand collided so fiercely with her cheek that she was thrown back into the pillows, drenching herself in sticky red wine.

“Foolish lass! We think of Clan Gordon, just as father did ‘til the noose tightened, and so shall ye. Be grateful; the Queen coulda picked a portly boy without a penny to his name, but she picked the heir of Laird Fraser, a warrior and proper Highlander. ‘Tis a better match than ye deserve. Honestly, with yer mouth, ye ought to be dead, not marrying one of the most eligible unmarried men in the Highlands.”

Kenna clutched her swelling cheek, blood slowly filling her mouth with a salty heat. “I shan’t…”

“Fine,” Thomas chimed in. “No, John, getting this one to see sense is harder than getting a cow to crow. We promised a Gordon lass, and we have one to spare. Elizabeth is in her room, I expect?”

John’s smile slowly grew as he came to know Thomas’ plan. “Aye, she is. Likely to find her with the healer again. I suppose the Queen would prefer a healthy lass, given the hard bit of travel ahead, but Elizabeth is behaved and bonny. A good match.”

“Aye, the Fraser ought to be able to keep her well enough on the road to Aberdeen. Or not. I reckon it will be fer her new husband to decide how well she stays.”

“That’s quite enough,” Kenna snapped, standing up so that she could at least look her brothers in the eyes when she acknowledged her loss. “Ye two ought to be minstrels; ye put on such a show. If I agree, Elizabeth stays here?”