Highlander Taken. Juliette Miller
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Название: Highlander Taken

Автор: Juliette Miller

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Исторические любовные романы

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СКАЧАТЬ Lottie and Maisie. My light mood faded slightly at the sight of Maisie’s troubled expression, and I recalled Wilkie’s disappearance with the exotic blonde stranger last night. I went to my sister, who I’d always been close to despite her high-strung nature, and linked my arm through hers, reading her thoughts. “Laird Mackenzie is as dedicated to sealing the alliance between our clans as Father is,” I said, reading her concerns.

      “I know,” she agreed with some despondency, adding quietly, “Wilkie hasn’t appeared yet this morning.” Nor had she—the blonde stranger—this was clear from my sister’s expression. My eyes scanned the crowd in a silent confirmation.

      At the far end of the sparring arena, Laird Mackenzie and our father were deep in discussion. I thought that a good sign.

      “The negotiations for your wedding to Wilkie are already well under way,” I said in an attempt to console her. “You know that. They’re likely discussing it now. ’Tis why we’re here, after all. We’ve all heard Father say it often enough—the Mackenzie alliance is crucial to our military position and can only be secured irrevocably by the bonds of marriage.”

      “’Tis true,” agreed Agnes, overhearing and adjusting a curl of Maisie’s hair. “They’re probably finalizing the arrangement. You might even be wed as soon as tomorrow.”

      Bonnie’s eyes followed Jamie, her betrothed. He entered the ring to face off against one of the lower-ranked Mackenzie officers. Without taking her eyes from Jamie, Bonnie prodded Maisie gently. “When Wilkie becomes laird, our new lady will have only the best interests of her sisters and cousins in mind, to be sure.”

      We watched Jamie take his place, and I couldn’t help reflecting on Jamie’s similarities to his younger brother. His hair was a slightly darker shade than Caleb’s. And in his soldier’s stance I could see he was taller and broader; Jamie’s was a more imposing stature. The distinct family resemblance only succeeded in reminding me of my lingering heartbreak, which had faded by the mildest degree. Maybe it was the bright sunlight or the bustling, charged activity of the scene, but I felt less sorrowful than I had in several weeks—since Caleb’s hasty departure, in fact.

      “Aye,” Clementine, my eldest sister, whose tone was laced with an edge of resigned woe, added. “Eventually, our new laird might even allow us to marry whoever we choose to.”

      Poor Clementine. True to his character, our father had forced Clementine to make the choices she had made, regarding the men who had humiliated her. Twice she’d been engaged and twice she’d been shunted at the altar, a series of events that had finally convinced her that her true path was to join a convent. She was due to leave soon after the harvest. It occurred to me then that maybe the men had deserted her because they’d been forced into marriage against their will, and had been unable to follow through at the crucial moment. I knew Clementine would never have complained in the face of my father’s decisions; we’d been trained all our lives to treat our father’s decisions as gospel. And if we ever protested, he had no reservations about using the back of his hand—or his whip, less frequently—to quiet our insolence. He was laird, after all: all-powerful, and with the larger needs of the clan to consider, rather than the only selfish desires of his children. But with all that had recently transpired, my blood boiled at the injustice of it.

      I hadn’t thought of it before, but my sisters were right. Once Wilkie wed Maisie, he would be in line to take over the title of Laird Morrison, after the passing of my father. As much as I feared my father, I didn’t wish him dead, yet I knew his illness to be worsening. And I couldn’t help thinking past his reign. Wilkie might not be averse to letting us choose our own husbands. Caleb might be allowed to return, though I knew better than to hope for such a thing.

      “Aye.” I barely heard Maisie’s reply through the haze of my thoughts. “And I also have my own interests to consider. Of that I’m afraid I’ll need to be most definite. My first order of business, as Wilkie’s wife, will be to make sure he has no visiting...distractions.” She didn’t need to name her concern to be understood: the blonde distraction she was referring to would not be welcomed by the impending Lady of Glenlochie.

      “I’m sure that’s a reasonable request,” Agnes said. Agnes, so unlike her twin, spoke with an ingrained authority on every subject. While Ann possessed a gentle, elegant beauty, Agnes was more petite, with pale skin and knowing brown eyes. She made up for her lack of physicality by ensuring that her opinion was always heard. “Wilkie will no doubt agree.”

      I hoped, for Maisie’s sake, that he would.

      Jamie’s small battle came to an abrupt end when his sword was knocked from his hands by his opponent’s decisive swipe. There was some laughter from the men as the young Mackenzie warrior jeered.

      Clementine tried to reassure Bonnie. “I’ve heard it said that the Mackenzies are particularly well trained. They compete well against even the strongest of men.”

      As though to punctuate the remark, a murmur rippled through the crowd as a commanding helmeted Mackenzie warrior walked into the ring. He was challenging not one but two of the more experienced Morrison soldiers, and he looked more than up to the task. Even before he removed his helmet to reveal his identity, I knew who he was. The crisscrossing strapped holsters that dripped with weaponry. The untouchable confidence. Kade Mackenzie, the very menace who had haunted my sleep, overpowering my more-peaceful dreams of Caleb and weaving through my shockingly sensual reveries of the garden phantom.

      He was a captivating figure, to be sure, not only for his size and dynamic presence but for the immanent spectacle his very manner seemed to suggest; whatever drama was about to unfold was sure to be perilously theatrical, at very least. He held the riveted attention of every spectator in attendance, myself included.

      Kade took his position, clutching a huge, lethal-looking sword, and in his left hand he held a shield that was cleverly armed with small, razor-sharp spears. A second sword was strapped to his back, where he could easily access it, and a large knife hung at his hip. He wore a leather sleeveless vest that exposed his tanned, muscular arms. His eyes caught mine for a long, fortified moment, causing a jolt of awareness to seep into every anxiety I possessed, and deeper still. Then he fitted his helmet back into place and took his position. His concentration honed in on his opponents and he began to circle, like a hungry wolf might circle newborn lambs. He was undoubtedly the most threatening aggressor I had ever laid eyes on. I feared for our own Morrison soldiers and hoped they would not be maimed, or killed.

      Bonnie breathed a light sigh, perhaps of relief, now that Jamie was already bested. She muttered an unsteady sentiment we might all have been thinking: “Good Lord.”

      The spar began and the Morrison soldiers attacked as one. Kade deflected easily, his movements so deft, so cuttingly concise, that the first defender was relieved of his weapons within the minute, and limped from the ring with a bloodied cut to the leg without bothering to defend his teammate. The second opponent didn’t last much longer. His strikes against Kade’s sword barely registered and were so skillfully countered that they appeared mere child’s play. With a circular slice, Kade succeeded in flinging the defending soldier’s sword with such force that several people in the audience had to flee from its flying path.

      Kade kneeled over the felled Morrison warrior, staunch aggression radiating from him, and he held the point of his spear to the man’s throat. Then, after a loaded moment, Kade stepped back, allowing the man to surrender and make his way unsteadily to the sidelines. That he was able to best two of the largest, most battle-hardened Morrison warriors so easily only added to his clinging ferocity.

      Again the crowd murmured, and several people backed up.

      Kade stood, surveying our assembled Morrison СКАЧАТЬ