The Maclean Brothers

Rosaline didn’t care one bit about the conversation around her. The two other girls that lived on the Border and had been her constant companions for eight years were gossiping about the men that they had left behind at court and the dread they had at coming back to the Border. Rosaline had no such dread, on the contrary, she was only mad that her return had been delayed two years. Her father had insisted that she remain in London when the some of the worst fighting they had experienced in years had broken out. Women were kidnapped, cattle vanished, and men were ambushed daily. Blood on both sides stained the earth without mercy and out of the death arose the name the Border Demon. Rumors were that the Border Demon was no man but fashioned by Satan himself to kill Englishmen. He killed women, children, and men without remorse and was even said to revel in the blood he spilled. The Demon was always at the front of an attack and laughed in the faces of his enemies even as he dispatched them. He was the fiercest Scot the English had ever fought and seemed to elude capture and death at every turn. Assassins had been sent to his castle in Duart only to never be heard from again or be found dead somewhere in the morning. His other nickname was well deserved as well, the Devil of Duart, for no man could penetrate the hell castle and live. Some had even tried to bribe the man’s three brothers into murder and ended up dead for their troubles. Unlike other Scottish families, they was very close and his brothers, each as savage as their elder brother and with their own dangerous reputations, would die for their Laird a thousand times over before lowering themselves to betrayal.

The Devil Demon’s name, Hector Maclean.

The man was to be her husband in only a few short days. Rosaline didn’t know if she should be grateful to her father for having broken her engagement to Henry Anderson, whose cruelty and horrible rumors of murder had made her fear her marriage to him, or mad that he was throwing her to the brutal Scot Maclean as a way to build an alliance and quiet some of the fighting. Her marriage was in fact the reason that she was finally returning to her beloved home but her feelings for a certain Scot from her childhood also came back tenfold. Rosaline fingered the rose necklace about her neck. She had kept her promise to the mysterious Troll and had never taken it off. It was her most prized possession and her most painful. Each day she thought of Troll and her talks with him, wondering who he could be.

At first she had thought that he must be a Douglas since their land was the closest to the tree but had realized her mistake when it was brought to her attention that Douglas only had a daughter. That left her with anyone of the Elliots, Kerrs, or the famous Macleans. Rosaline hoped with all her heart that her Troll wasn’t a Kerr for she had heard that the three Kerr brothers along with the rest of their family had been killed by their uncle whom had taken Ferniehirst Castle as his own and declared himself Laird. She couldn’t help thinking that it would be a miracle if Troll was Hector Maclean but doubted it. Her friend was not the monster all Englishmen feared. You must forget him Rose, she chided herself. He most likely forgot about you and you need to think of your future not your past.

Taking a deep breath she looked out of the carriage window and tried to ignore Elizabeth and Catherine.

“I can’t wait to get home,” Elizabeth said as she braced herself as the carriage lunched once more because of the uneven ground they were on. “I hate traveling.”

“So do I,” Catherine added turning green in the face. “Why in the world must we travel in the middle of a forest when there is a perfectly good road?”

“Because there are dangers on the road,” Rosaline explained unable to keep quiet at their chattering. “This is the Border and we are trying to travel in secret so as not to attract unwanted attention.”

“But that’s what guards are for,” Catherine pointed out.

“And for us to ogle at,” Elizabeth said with a smile as both women giggled.

Rosaline turned her head so they wouldn’t see her roll her eyes, “The dozen men that we haven can’t very well stand against a raiding party can they?”

“You are such a spoil sport Rose,” Catherine sighed dramatically. “The skirmishes along the Border are done thanks to your marriage.”

“I’m not married yet,” she murmured.

“Well you will be,” Catherine countered as she brushed her black hair out of her face after a particularly big roll of the carriage. “We are in no danger--Ahhhhh!” Rosaline jumped as a flaming arrow lodged itself onto the floor of their carriage. Rosaline looked up as the two other women screamed hysterically to find a grouped of twenty men rushing out of the trees, weapons in their hands.

“We’re going to die!” Elizabeth shrieked as she and Catherine clutched each other in panic.

“Get out of the carriage,” Rosaline said remaining calm as the fire began to spread.

“I’m too young to die,” wailed Catherine, tears rolling down her face. None of them had moved and the heat was starting to get worse.

Rosaline grabbed Catherine’s arm forcefully, “Get out of the damn carriage or I’ll hit you.”

“Oh, not my beautiful face!” Catherine said even more petrified of the threat to her face than the fire as she jumped out with Elizabeth. Rosaline quickly followed only to have to bat out a small fire that had caught Elizabeth’s dress. When it was out she heard Catherine’s blood curling scream and looked up to find the two women running into the forest and another twenty men rushing down the opposite side as the first group.

Rosaline’s pulse went wild in fear, these men looked more violent and frightening then the first group.

~ ~ ~ ~

“God I hope something exciting happens,” Ewan said as he leaned over his horse and patted it. Hector along with Robert, Alexander, and twenty of his men watched as the carriage bellow them slowly made its way to Lord Hunter’s castle. Hector and his men were not suppose to be on English soil as Hunter had forbidden it when Hector had requested to be allowed to escort his future bride as extra guard. But Hector had not taken orders from another man since his father had died five years ago and he had taken over as Laird and he certainly hadn’t been about to start for an Englishmen. So Hector had secretly ridden out to protect the carriage that was transporting his soon to be wife and two other daughters of important English Border lords. Hector was convinced that it was too good a prize for some of his Scottish brethren to leave untouched. Hell, if what was in the carriage didn’t belong to him he would have raided it. But the thought that maybe one of the women in the carriage was Fairy had made it impossible for him to stay away. For eight years he had waited for her to come home. After the six she had said she would be gone he had returned almost every week to the tree they had spent their childhood at but she had never appeared. Hector had never forgotten her, certainly he had not stayed celibate for all those years but her had never found anyone to interest him in the way that Fairy had. And maybe today she was coming home. And maybe he would have to get married to someone other than her for the good of his people.

“Always so eager for a fight aren’t you?” Hector replied as he brought his huge stallion, Cuthach, whom he had won all those years ago from Alexander under control. True to his name “rage” the black horse was never one to sit ideally when trouble was lurking about, especially with his master in such a state of uneasy and tension.

“That’s unlikely with Hector’s reputation,” Robert responded glancing at his elder brother. “I think even some of the Scots are starting to believe the rumors circulating around.”

“Aye and that battleaxe of his is certainly getting others attention,” Alexander said. Hector unconsciously touched the weapon in question which was strapped to his back. It had been passed down through the Maclean’s for generations and had been their founder’s battleaxe. Hector had received it on his twenty-first birthday and it had been a part of him every since.

“Even I tend to think the rumors are true when I see you fight with that axe,” was Robert’s opinion.

“Do you believe he murders women and children too?” asked Alexander with a grin.

“Oh and that Hector is part Satanic?” Ewan chimed in.

“Be quiet all of you,” Hector said. He didn’t like what the English thought of him but knew the advantage of a menacing reputation. Although none of it was true except maybe that he was terrifying in battle which was only because his clan’s well-being was at stake.

“Well I’m still hoping for a fool to try, nothing’s better than a fight,” smirked Ewan as his sea green eyes laughed at the thought.

“Accept making love to a woman,” Alexander cut in as he pushed his curly brown hair out of his face.

“Aye and you certainly both do your fair share of it,” Robert added dryly.

“You’re one to talk. You have a betrothed and half the women in the castle vying for your attention,” Ewan grinned as he brought out his old argument.

Robert groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“He’s making sure to taste the sweet lasses he can before getting tied down to that hideous Moira,” Alexander teased.

“Which reminds me,” Hector said smirking with his emerald eyes. “It’s almost time that you marry her.”

“Hector don’t tease,” Robert said.

“I’m not. What’s it been…five years since you’ve been to visit her?”

“Seven,” coughed Ewan

“Aye, seven years,” Alexander said with a smile as Robert glared at them both.

“That’s a long time,” Hector raised his brows. “You sure she won’t be mad at you when you finally go to collect her?”

“I’m not worried,” Robert said confidently as he let his gaze wander to the carriage to say that the discussion was over.

“Aye, Robert the Cunning will smoothly patch things up before he has to bring his bride to the alter,” Hector chuckled not letting the subject drop.

“You should be on my side!” Robert protested his green eyes flashing in outrage.

“I’m on no one’s side.”

“Chide Alexander here for that brawl yesterday,” Robert pointed at the brother in question.

“Hey! It’s not my fault, she never said she was married,” Alexander threw his hands in the air.

“Oh no, and you didn’t notice that she was our hostess either,” Ewan raised his eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Alexander going to cuff his younger brother only to have him duck at the last minute. “At least I don’t lift the skirt of every woman I meet.”

“I don’t lift the skirt of every woman I see…” Ewan replied with a hurt look on his face. As the youngest of the Maclean brothers he was indisputably the handsomest of them all with his smooth black hair, tall muscular length, and eyes that had women dreaming of the sea.

Hector laughed at his antics, “We’ve all heard the exploits of Ewan the Handsome.”

“You’ve taken almost all the women on our side of the Border and I’m betting quite a few on this side as well,” Robert said as all four of them moved their horses down a bit to keep in sight of the carriage as it continued its journey.

“I leave them all happier than they were before,” Ewan said cockily. “But you misunderstood me. I don’t lift the skirts of all the women…some do it all on their own.” The four brothers burst in laughter but Hector quickly looked back at the carriage like he had been doing throughout most of the conversation. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of the women inside but the curtains were drawn on his side, hindering his attempts.

“Do you lay with women Hector?” asked Alexander suddenly.

“What the hell kind of a question is that?” Hector growled. Unlike his brothers he preferred to keep his love life private, not have it in the open for all to talk about.

“Well I know for a fact that you have slept with some women as the ones that aren’t scared of you think you quite handsome,” Robert said, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “But not that many have the honor of gracing your bed.”

“Of course it’s not a lot compared to all of you.” Hector said looking pointedly at all his brothers. “This discussion is closed.”

“Not so fast,” Ewan responded. “Are you waiting for someone special?”

“No,” Hector said a little to fast.

“Who is she?” Alexander said curiously. “Is it the one you meet when you disappear?”

“It’s my damn business so kindly fuck off,” Hector snarled.

“It is her!” cried Robert. “My brother’s in love!!”

“How romantic!” Alexander said sarcastically as he clutched his heart to make fun of his brother.

“Sound the marriage bells,” Ewan said laughing.

“They are. I’m marrying Hunter’s daughter remember,” Hector said softly. That seemed to get through to his brothers as they grew serious.

“Well, you can always have this love of yours as a mistress,” Ewan tried to console his brother. “I’m sure the English chit won’t mind.”

“You are young brother and know nothing of love,” Hector sighed and cocked his head to the side. He was certain he had heard something.

“You love the mystery girl?”

“I never said that.”

“But you just said--.” Ewan’s reply was cut off when screams broke across the stillness of the afternoon. All four of their heads snapped to the carriage were shouts and some flames were coming from. A group of men wearing the colors of the Scott clan rushed from the woods facing them. Hector frowned at this; the Scotts weren’t one of the most blood thirsty families on the Border. They tended to mind their own business unless someone provoked them. What the hell are they doing here? He thought. Hector was going to sound the charge when two women stepped from the burning carriage in a rush. One had hair the color of midnight and the other was blond. His heart constricted, was it Fairy? He signaled his men to attack and kept his gaze on the woman with the blond hair only to see that her dress had caught on fire. He wanted to warn her but was too far away; luckily another woman with the hair of honey climbed down from the carriage and expertly batted the fire. Who was this composed woman in the face of danger?

Hector tore his gaze with difficulty from the second blond and put his mind to the task of killing the Scots that would dare to attack what was his.

“Bàs no Beatha!” Hector roared his clan war cry of ‘death or life’ as his men did the same. Lifting his double bladed battleaxe high in the air he could already see the fear spread across the Scott’s faces as they recognized who they were about to come face to face with.

“Fear eile airson Eachuinn!” their other war cry was yelled by Robert who savagely waving his sword in the air. Alexander had his two swords in hand echoing Robert’s cry and Ewan was screaming with his two-handed claymore in his fist.

“Fear eile airson Eachuinn!” echoed the rest of his men, ‘another for Hector’.

~ ~ ~ ~

The sound of metal against metal resounded in the once peaceful woods. Unfamiliar words Rosaline could only guess was Gaelic were being shouted as confusion and panic spread everywhere. Her guards had no idea who to fight as the two groups that had appeared turned on each other and death screams began as men were robbed of their life. Rosaline looked after the fleeing women and followed, knowing that they would most likely run into trouble.

“Elizabeth! Catherine!” she screaming as she ducked flying swords and hoofs from rearing horses. When two men engaged in a sword fight came her way she was pushed to the side and landed hard on the ground. Her hair in disarray she pushed herself back on her feet and continued running to her companions’ retreating backs. She was brought up short by a huge brown horse. Rosaline glanced up and saw a young man with black hair across his brow and her gaze meet with shocked green eyes. The young horsemen stared at her like he had seen a ghost and opened and closed his mouth several times.

“Fai--.” Whatever he had been about to say to her was interrupted when a man dragged him off his horse. Rosaline didn’t wait to see what happened but rushed past them. Sprinting through the trees she made herself slow down as she knew that somewhere around there was a ledge that dropped off some one hundred feet and she had no wish to plunge to her death. It was a good thing she did so for a minute later she came upon the ledge. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes to keep from looking down, down, and down. Rosaline stepped back a few feet and turned around to find a man with a grin spread across his face and a sword in his hand. Rosaline’s throat went dry in dread; she had no way to protect herself.

“Found you lassie,” the man rumbled.

“Am I interrupting?” came a new voice. The man looked back in puzzlement and then grunted when a sword was plunged into his chest. He dropped dead on the floor. “Guess not.” Rosaline stared at the man that had saved her but wasn’t sure if she should trust him. He studied her with the same green eyes as the rider had but his held a tint of blue in them. “Don’t worry, I won’t harm you.” He stepped closer which brought him in front of her. As he still held his sword, Rosaline moved back in fear only to find that she had gone too far. The man swore at his carelessness and tried to grab her only to latch on to Troll’s necklace which broke. Rosaline screamed as she plunged into the waiting arms of the wind and straight for the rocks bellow.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hector swiftly decapitated the man before him and turned to his next victim only to find that they were retreating. When a Scott tried to be brave and salvage their defeat, Hector advanced upon him with his axe lifted high and the man’s eyes went wide in fright.

“Run!” he screamed and turned tail. “It’s the Border Demon!!” Hector sighed at the name and looked around him at the carnage. His men had successfully thwarted the Scott’s plan and were now keeping the English from killing them by explaining who they were. Hector looked over to find that Robert had managed to bring back two of the women with his sly words and they were comforting one another near the English guards.

“Nasty pieces of work the both of them,” Robert said wiping his blood covered dark brown hair from his face. “I hope none of them are your future bride.”

One had started to cry and the other had fainted away, “That makes two of us.”

“Well if anything this fight should have made Ewan happy so that we don’t have to listen to his whining on the way home,” Robert smirked sheathing his sword.

“Speaking of which,” Hector smiled as he saw Ewan quickly maneuverings his brown horse through the men to their side. “Enjoy the fight little brother.”

“I saw…I saw,” Ewan breathed hard.

“You saw …” Robert prompted looking at his brother with a frown.

“I saw the fairy,” Ewan finished looking at Hector. Hector’s heart stopped at the words and his eyes went round.

“Aye, of course you did laddie,” Robert laughed in disbelief not catching the look Hector was giving Ewan. “Did you see Nessie too? She’s been known to leave her loch and take walks as well--.”

“Where?” Hector interrupted in a rush.

“What? You believe him?” Robert asked lost as to what they were really talking about.
“I saw her for a moment at the edge of the wood.” Ewan explained as Hector whistled for Cuthach who came to his master. Robert did the same with his white horse.

“Show me.” Hector said simply as he mounted. Ewan nodded and spurred his horse on with Hector and Robert not far behind.

“You’ve both lost your mind,” Robert mumbled. Ewan reigned in his horse when they had reached the spot he had seen Hector’s beloved fairy at and Hector could barely keep from screaming out for her. He had just spotted her footprints when Alexander came galloping from that very direction.

“Alexander, come quickly. Our brothers have lost their minds and are hunting for a fairy,” Robert beckoned with exasperation.

“We’ve got bigger problems than fairies,” Alexander replied stopping his horse in front of them. “The third girl went over the cliff when I scared her.”

“What?!?” cried Hector.

“Don’t worry,” Alexander said but cringed nonetheless under his elder brother’s gaze. “She luckily fell only a few feet onto a ledge bellow. I told her to stay and that I would get help.”
“Damn it all! Show us where she is,” snarled Hector. His nerves were at the very edge and he knew at any moment he was going to lose it.

“There’s also something else,” Alexander said, his horse shifted in place giving away that its rider was nervous. “I think it’s your bride. She was wearing this.” He dangled their mother’s rose necklace in front of them all.

“It’s her,” Hector said in a daze as he reached out and took the necklace he had given Fairy long ago…and she was going to be his wife!

“Wait a minute, you didn’t send that necklace to Hunter’s daughter,” Robert mused. “I remember--.”

“Enough talk,” Hector snapped kicking his horse into a gallop towards the woman who had haunted his thoughts for eight years.

~ ~ ~ ~

The Scot must be thick in the head if he actually expected her to wait for him to come back. Rosaline had no way of knowing if he wasn’t the bad guy in this whole affaire and she wasn’t about to wait around to find out. She let out a breath as she felt around for a foothold to boast herself up, she was already halfway up the side of the cliff. She also kept reminding herself not to look down but not taking her own advice she did. She gasped at seeing how far from the ledge that had saved her she was and how far she had to fall to end up dead on the rocks. Rosaline pressed her body closer to the ledge as she took a deep breath, trying to block out all the sounds around her. I don’t think this is the best idea you’ve had today, she yelled at herself. Rosaline gathered her courage and opened her eyes, she searched for a foot hold and finally found it. Lifting her arm she grasped a rock above her and put her weight down on the hold she had found with her foot. She screamed when it gave out and she found herself falling only to feel a firm hand grasp hers. Startled she looked up into the face of a stranger. He was a frightening sight to behold with his long untamed hair and penetrating emerald eyes flashing. In her fear she had not heard him approach.

“Let go of the ledge,” he said in a way that commanded obedience.

“No, I could fall.”

“Trust me, I won’t let you fall.” His jaw twitched and a forgotten memory prickled at Rosaline’s conscious only to disappear before she could grasp it. Rosaline’s strength was fading fast and she knew that she had no choice but to trust him. She nodded and made her stiff fingers let go of the rock. With what seemed like no effort on his part the stranger lifted her onto the blessed ground. Her limbs were shaking as she sat there to compose herself. She glanced around her to find that the man that had frightened her over was watching her with concern. She jerked back in fright but a calming hand on her shoulder made her relax.

“Don’t worry, that’s just my idiot of a brother Alexander.” The stranger was sitting next to her on the ground and watching her like a hawk with his unnerving eyes.

“Sorry my lady,” the man named Alexander said drawing her gaze to him. She nodded to show that she accepted his apology then glanced at the other two men around her. One she was surprised to see was the handsome horsemen who had stared at her before. So he had survived his encounter, she thought. And he still won’t stop watching me. The other man was unknown with dark brown hair that came to his shoulder and a calm about him that soothed her nerves.

“Do you feel you can stand?” asked the man beside her.

Returning her gaze to him she said, “Yes.” He helped her to her feet before straightening up and she just managed not to let her jaw drop. The man was a giant! For a second she thought that it must be her Troll before she told herself that Troll didn’t have eyes as deep green as his or would have grown as tall as the man before her. The man stood at least two heads taller than what she assumed were his three brothers and they were not short men. The man easily dwarfed her six foot father and was so broad that he could have stood in front of the sun and no sunlight would have passed. Yet every part of him was muscle and made for warfare. He was wearing coarse brown pants and brown boots that reached his ankles. There was a white shirt under his leather jerkin which he had pushed back to reveal powerful forearms. My god he could kill me with a flick of his wrist, she marveled. His stance exuded a cool danger with his feet spread and his arms crossed across his chest which flexed the muscles in his arms. She had to tilt her head to look at his face. His hair was barbarously long, reaching a few inches bellow his shoulder and was a dark, wavy brown. His face was half covered with a neat beard that was trimmed close to his strong chin. His lips were right out of her dreams and his nose was lean and perfect. His eyes were what captured Rosaline, they were the deepest emerald she had ever seen and reminded her of the highlands that she had missed so much when she had been in London. Rosaline’s eye traveled to the sword hilt that was sticking out from his back as well as the handle of what she believed was a battleaxe.

“Am I correct in guessing that you are Rosaline the daughter of Lord Hunter?” the strange man asked.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he replied looking uninterested about the whole thing. “These are my brothers, you know Alexander, next to him is Ewan.” The black haired young man inclined his head. “Robert.” The relaxed man’s head titled in greeting. “And I’m Hector.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Hector tried not to be aware of the beauty in front of him in the saddle. Hector had brought Rosaline back to her guards and an agreement was made to combine forces until they reached Hunter’s lands and his daughter safely delivered. Since the carriage had burned down the women had had to be taken on other’s horses. The one with the black hair was currently in Ewan’s arms and fawning over the scoundrel that would no doubt sweet talk her into parting with something her father would want to kill Ewan over. The blond was behind one of the English guards but was glancing at Alexander with interest. Hector had naturally taken Rosaline and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. It was so good to finally know her name and like her name suggested she was one breathtaking rose. She had changed in the years that they had been separated. She was a tall, curvaceous woman that carried herself with such grace and poise that he couldn’t help feeling like a beast next to her. She was wearing a lavender gown that was dirty and torn yet still she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Her lushes hair was the color of spun gold and reached to her lower back. Her skin had lost its awkward paleness, now glowing in a creamy white that still smelled of roses. Her lips were a mesmerizing red like a new rose and made it hard for him not to pluck it. Her blue eyes were as bright as ever and framed by long lashes. But it was the discontent and wariness that he saw in her eyes that had stopped him from revealing he was her Troll. He no longer was the small child that she had left behind but a warrior and a leader. He had killed more men than he could count and had done things that he was not proud of to insure the survival of his Clan. Hector’s reputation now would no doubt scare her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Hector wanted her to like him as he was now and not with ideas of the past of what he should be. So he would wait to tell her.

“Thank you,” her soft comment made Hector come back to the present.

“It was nothing,” Hector replied. They lapsed back into silence and Hector cursed himself for having none of Robert’s charm. Retrieving the necklace from the inside of his jerkin he held it out to Rosaline. “You dropped this back at the ledge.”

“I thought I had lost it forever, thank you,” Rosaline said quickly taking it back and bringing it to her heart.

“Should I be worried?” Hector asked casually.

“About?”

“Well, you clutch the necklace to your chest like you’ll never let go,” he explained. “And its design is Scottish. I can only conclude that it was given to you by another man.”

“Why not conclude that it’s a gift from a woman friend?” Rosaline lifted her eyebrow in question.

“A woman would not give a friend jewelry.”

“How would you know?” she countered. Hector bite his lip to keep from laughing, they had not been together for an hour and already they were debating each other like old times.

“Because--.”

“We’re here Hector,” Robert said bring his horse close; Alexander did the same but on the other side. They did this as much for the impressive sight of three huge Scotsmen riding together as to protect him from possible threats--and there were many. He had been so absorbed with his conversation that he had not realized that the Castle was looming in front of them as the sun set.

“Hunter’s going to have a heart attack when he sees us,” Alexander added looking cheerful at the thought.

“Why would my father be mad?” asked Rosaline but no one answered her as she would soon see for herself. They passed through the gates and thundered into the courtyard where Hunter’s men were instantly on alert and surrounded him and his men. They looked worried about the whole thing but where relieved when their Lord approached.

“What in all that is holy are Scots doing in my Castle?” boomed Hunter.

“Papa!” cried Rosaline in joy as she slipped off the front of Hector’s saddle and rushed to her father.
“Rose!” he responded opening his arms wide. “How I’ve missed you!”

“I have missed you too Papa,” she replied from his arms. Another man came out from the castle with the same honey hair that Hector knew without a doubt was her brother.

“John!” Rosaline went to greet him as her father turned his eye on Hector and his men.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want you on English soil and escorting my daughter.”

“I don’t take orders from Englishmen even if he will soon be my father-in-law,” replied Hector coldly.

Hunter went red in the face in anger, “I could have you arrested for this!”

“I dare you to try,” Hector said stonily giving him a gaze that said he wanted the fight when that was the furthest thing from his mind. He had to keep up the appearance of his name and make sure that HUnter knew he wasn’t about to become his lap dog because he was marrying into the family.

“Papa,” Rosaline interrupted, placing her delicate hand on her father’s shoulder. “It was a good thing that they came because we were attacked--.”

“Attacked!!” roared Hunter. “By who?”

“Scotts,” Hector said dismounting as Robert and Alexander did the same, Ewan was no where to be seen.

“But they’re usually peaceful. Why would they do this?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Hector echoed, something strange was going on here and the faster he was back at Duart the better. “Do you have the priest?”

“Pardon?” asked Hunter clearly baffled as to how they had ended up on that subject.

“A man of God that can marry your daughter and I?” Hector growled losing patience a bit. He saw Rosaline’s eyes go wide at his pronouncement.

“Now?” the poor man was at a loss as to what to say.

Hector moved to tower over Hunter, whose men didn’t even move they were so scared, “Something about the whole attack doesn’t quite add up. I don’t believe you’re involved in this but your daughter is, so marry us now and I’ll take her away to Duart where I can protect her.”

“You saying I can’t protect her myself!?”

“Listen Hunter, I think someone doesn’t want us to be allies. At the moment I can think of quite a few people who would prosper if we didn’t join forces. So, to foil their attempts marry us and let me figure out what is going on around us from my own damn castle.”

Hunter was thoughtful for a few minutes before nodding. Turning to one his men he ordered him to fetch a priest before turning back to Hector, “If you and your witnesses will follow me.” They turned to go but Hector quickly motioned for Brodie the captain of his guard.

“I want you to send two men to the clearing where the battle took place and look for anything odd,” he instructed in Gaelic so that no one but his men could understand. “I also want you to send a messenger to Duart and get the men on high alert. I’ll talk to them when I get back.”

“Aye, it will be done,” Brodie said turning to carry out his orders. Then Hector followed his host into his castle flanked by Alexander, Robert, and Ewan who had reappeared.

“Miss anything exciting,” A disheveled Ewan asked leaving no doubt as to what he had been doing.

“Hector’s getting married now and a strange plot is going on around us,” Alexander said. “Hopefully we don’t all die before the wedding reception.”

“There won’t be a reception,” Hector said also talking in Gaelic. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Well that certainly ruins my day. I was looking forward to actually drinking English wine that was offered to me and that I had not stolen,” Alexander joked.

“Pardon me,” said a woman’s voice, they all looked over to find Rosaline before them. “May I have a word?”

“Certainly,” Hector responded as his brothers moved behind them so they could talk in private while they walked.

“I hope there is a good reason for rushing this marriage and why I can’t even change dresses or clean up,” she scolded linking her arms with Hector. He was surprised by the gesture and scared to hold her too tightly lest he break her.

“You look beautiful,” he replied.

“I hope you’ll let me see my brother and father after we’re married since I haven’t had time to speak to them today.”

“They are welcome to come to Duart when they want,” Hector replied glancing at Rosaline from the corner of his eye. “They won’t be harmed.”

“The real reason I wanted to talk to you was to tell you something,” Rosaline said taking a deep breath. “I wanted to warn--.”

“The priest is here,” her father interrupted.

“I wanted to warn…” Rosaline tried again.

“Tell me later,” Hector said bringing them to a stop in front of the old priest.

~ ~ ~ ~

Rosaline’s marriage was a blur. One moment she was saying her vows to a man she had only just met and the next instant his surprisingly soft mouth was against hers to seal the deed. The kiss was a flitting one yet she could still feel it against hers when she gave her goodbyes to her brother and father who both promised to come and visit her soon, through the loading of her trunks onto a wagon, and the whole ride to her husband’s castle. She was so preoccupied with it that she missed the sight of her new home and was already in her new bedroom when she could snap out of her thoughts. Hector had said he had to talk to some of his men before he would come up so she was left alone in a huge bedroom.

It was the plain room of a bachelor, with a fire roaring in the chimney, a fur rug on the floor to keep out the chill. The huge bed dominated most of the room which shouldn’t surprise her since Hector was such a broad and tall man. An intricate trunk of clothes was at the foot of the bed, with one of her own trunks next to it. There was a small writing desk to the side piled with papers that were no doubt important and a rack with some swords.

Suddenly cold, she went to stand next to the fire. She was anxious for Hector to come up yet worried about the wedding night. She knew that basics of what was to happen but nothing more. Fidgeting with her hand and the ring on it she didn’t even hear Hector come in.

“Nervous?”

She jumped in fright but lowered her hand from her racing heart when she saw that it was Hector, “Not at all.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “Maybe a bit.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go slowly.” He slipped his arm around her waist and brought her against the length of his body. Brushing her hair gently out of the way he cupped her jaw and tilted her neck. He didn’t move for a few minutes, just held her gaze with his amazing emerald ones as she grew accustom to him so near to her. Rosaline’s heart was beating so fast she knew that he could feel it because of their proximity. “You’re so beautiful Rose.” His head leaned down and she felt the caress of his words against her cheek. Than with a groan like he couldn’t stop himself any longer he kissed her. Rosaline gasped as fire erupted throughout her body. She’d been kissed a few times before but never with such passion and her response was instant. She moved even closer to him if that was possible and wrapped her arms around his neck for balance as her legs turned to mush. His lips were sinful against hers as they moved, parting her lips with easy. His scent enveloped her…the fresh Scottish air, apples, and something entirely his own, masculine and devilish. Hector’s lips went to her neck, hands in her long hair.

“I still have the w-warn you,” Rosaline said when she found her unsteady voice again.

“Ah yes, the warning.” He didn’t seem at all concerned as he nipped and licked the base of her throat.

“I can never love you,” she said firmly.

He stopped what he was doing and locked gazes with her, “It’s him isn’t it?” Rosaline made sure not to move as he ran a long, lean finger on the necklace Troll had given her. She had managed to find a chain to replace the one that had been damaged earlier and it was once again around her neck.

“Yes.”

“Who is the bastard?” he asked but without any real venom. She said nothing not wanting to admit that even she didn’t know his name. “Don’t want me to know the name of your lover?”

“He isn’t my lover!” Rosaline said blushing and tried not to let her body respond to his roaming hands.

“We’ll soon find out won’t we?” Hector said crudely. “And don’t worry; I’m not after your love.”