Highlander in the Mist

By H.C. Brown

Kate must decide to escape the horrors of 1425, or fight for the love of her delicious Highland warrior.

During a tour of the Highlands, Kate Mackintosh goes to the aid of a drowning boy and mysteriously slips through time to 1425. A stunningly handsome Highlander, who believes she is a faerie intent on stealing his brother, immediately challenges her and offers himself as the boy’s replacement. Rather than remaining alone on an isolated mountainside, she follows the delicious Laird Alexander Murray to his Broch Lavern home.

Alone in a strange, brutal world, the noble Alex offers her not only his protection but a love and passion so great, her longing to return home soon fades. However, the fate of the clan rests on Alex marrying Mary Frazer, and his stepmother insists on the match.

Kate must leave the love of her life or remain and risk torture or death to fight for her handsome Highland laird.

Reader Advisory: This story contains a very sexy, auburn haired, kilted, Highland warrior in various stages of undress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Jan 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781910397329

H.C. Brown

H.C. Brown is a multi-published, multi-genre, bestselling, award-winning author.In 2016, she was delighted to be named Luminosity Publishing’s Bestselling Author of 2015.In 2015, she was delighted to be named Luminosity Publishing’s Bestselling Author of 2014.In 2015, Highlander in the Mist was placed 3rd in Historical and Rock ‘n’ Leather was placed 3rd GLBT in the Easychair Bookshop Competition.In 2015, Highlander in The Mist was nominated in The Romance Reviews 2015 Readers’ Awards.In 2011, she was delighted to receive nominations in three categories in the 2011 CAPA Awards: Favorite Author, Best GLBT Romance, and Best Science Fiction Romance.She was nominated for Best Historical M/M in the 2013, Goodreads Book of Year Awards.H.C writes about strong alpha male heroes and girl next door heroines in complex settings, and all her stories have happy endings.H.C. welcomes feedback from her readers.

Book preview

HIGHLANDER IN THE MIST

H.C. Brown

Kate must decide to escape the horrors of 1425, or fight for the love of her delicious Highland warrior.

During a tour of the Highlands, Kate Mackintosh goes to the aid of a drowning boy and mysteriously slips through time to 1425. A stunningly handsome Highlander, who believes she is a faerie intent on stealing his brother, immediately challenges her and offers himself as the boy’s replacement. Rather than remaining alone on an isolated mountainside, she follows the delicious Laird Alexander Murray to his Broch Lavern home.

Alone in a strange, brutal world, the noble Alex offers her not only his protection but a love and passion so great, her longing to return home soon fades. However, the fate of the clan rests on Alex marrying Mary Frazer, and his stepmother insists on the match.

Kate must leave the love of her life or remain and risk torture or death to fight for her handsome Highland laird.

Reader Advisory: This story contains a very sexy, auburn haired, kilted, Highland warrior in various stages of undress.

HIGHLANDER IN THE MIST

H.C. Brown

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

HIGHLANDER IN THE MIST

Copyright © November 2014 H.C. Brown

ISBN: 978-1-910397-32-9

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

Editor: Cynthia Blackburn

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

PUBLISHER

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

Dedication

For all the dreamers and magic believers.

May all your wishes come true.

Chapter One

Hey! The apparition turned toward him with a voice as sharp as a blade. Don’t just sit there. Get over here and help me.

Alexander Lachlan Angus Murray, Laird of Broch Lavern, rolled back on his heels and stared with disbelief at the ethereal being kissing Hamish. The vision glared at him then bent again and her blue hair cascaded over the lad’s inert body like a waterfall. The sight of her stilled his tongue. Never before had he witnessed such beauty. He fought to comprehend the spectacle before him, then panic gripped him and his teeth chattered in a most disconcerting fashion. She is not real. The sun has caught in the swirling mist and caused an apparition is all. He blinked frantically to force his eyes to focus, but the female remained, her luscious body framed by the late afternoon sun.

He edged closer and ran one finger over the edge of the apparition’s unusual clothing. The finely spun fabric clung to shapely breasts and rounded buttocks creating the feminine allure indicative of the fabled Fae. Had he lost his wits? Shock, perhaps from dragging his young brother’s lifeless body from the bog, had addled his brain, but never once in bloody battle had he imagined faerie folk. He scrubbed both hands over his face in an effort to gain control and blinked at her through his fingers.

She remained.

Hey! She closed one small hand around his arm and shook him. Do you speak English?

Alex jerked back in surprise, falling heavily on his backside. He rolled to his feet and gaped at her. She tossed strands of long, silken hair over one shoulder and considered him with a haughty expression. Christ, she is real.

Aye, I speak English fine. He sucked in a breath of stagnant bog air and lifted his chin, examining her features. She is a Seelie to be sure. If ye think to save my brother, mistress, ye are too late. He’s dead.

Well, he would have died if I hadn’t helped him. She rolled Hamish onto one side and the lad’s eyelashes flickered. Your brother has swallowed a lot of water, and he can hardly breathe. Using one small hand to pry open Hamish’s lips, she thumped him hard between the shoulder blades. His eyes flew open in unfocused horror, then he made a wheezing sound, groaned, and vomited.

Emotion slammed into him, misting his eyes. He is alive? Praise God! He tore off his jacket and covered the boy.

Yes, he is. The Seelie rubbed Hamish’s back with gentle care. There you go. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine as soon as I can get you nice and toasty. Just take a few deep breaths. She turned her attention back to Alex. Now would you please help me? We need to get him out of this freezing wind. The jacket is a help, but it will work better if you strip off his wet clothes. Then cover him with your jacket to keep him warm before the ambulance gets here. She flicked him a glance with eyes as blue as the deepest loch in summer and raised one eyebrow. "You did call an ambulance, didn’t you?" She got to her feet and peered up the hillside toward the Faerie Tree.

Confused by her strange words, he tried to recall the prayer he had spoken for Hamish’s soul. Mayhap he had made a mistake by praying in a place guarded by Pagan spirits. Sweet Jesus, had he inadvertently summoned one of the Fae to take Hamish to Other World? He turned his back on her to shield Hamish, unwrapped him from his soaking clothes, and went to work rubbing his cold flesh with clumps of dry grass. When he covered him with his jacket, the lad moaned and brought up his knees. Swallowing bog water had curdled his weam and before long, the fever would set in. He needed to build a fire to warm him but dare not leave him alone with the faerie. Keeping one hand on Hamish, he turned and attempted to translate her unintelligible muttering. Anger and impatience flowed off her, and her eyes flashed in contempt. She wanted him well away from Hamish to be sure. He rolled to his feet and lifted his chin. I will not allow ye to take my brother, mistress. He dived toward her to secure one of her arms and an ear-splitting scream cut through the silence.

Let go of me. Kate Mackintosh spun around and glared into his amazing green eyes. Her attack response weakened by his expression of shocked horror, she stopped the attempt to claw his face. His rough hand remained firmly attached to her forearm but he did not attempt to stop her attack. He appeared to be in shock and no wonder if he believed his brother had died. The poor man needed sympathy not anger. She forced her voice to remain calm. I’m sorry I screamed. You startled me. Now please remove your hand. She wriggled but his grip tightened, and he inclined his head, regarding her with interest.

I am sorry too. I dinna plan to do ye harm, lass, but he is ma brother. He stuck out a square chin, complete with dimple, and his mouth turned down at the corners. If ye must take payment for saving Hamish’s life, take me in his stead.

Take him where? Kate turned her attention to the bedraggled boy lying on his side, still gasping open-mouthed like a freshly caught trout. Where is that ambulance? I beg your pardon? Do you want to go to the hospital instead of him?

If that is your home, then aye, I do. I am strong and would make a fine slave for ye. The lad is too young to please one such as ye. I offer maself in his place.

His voice flowed off his tongue as rich as dark chocolate and his Highland accent made her toes curl. She bit back a smile. Well, that’s a very nice offer, but I don’t expect to be paid for saving your brother and slavery is illegal, unless you’re in the BDSM scene which I’m not, I might add. She attempted to pull from his grasp. Now that we’ve cleared up our little misunderstanding, you can let go of my arm. I can’t care for your brother and keep him warm if you restrain me.

His eyes narrowed to small slits of green and a nerve ticked in one cheek. Bide, ye wee devil and let me take a look at ye. He dragged her toward him and examined her face.

Wee devil? She gaped at him in disbelief. I think you have me confused with someone else.

Nay, I ken what ye are well enough. He snorted. Ye are in the Highlands, lass. We ken about faeries and the like.

Oh really? She took in the man before her, examining the vision of male perfection. Not only handsome but in full Highland regalia, with his neat ivory shirt secured at the neck by laces tucked into a plaid of green with a light blue stripe. The shirt hung open to reveal a smattering of dark auburn curls dusting the smooth skin of his wide muscular chest. The kilt surrounded a narrow waist and fell to below the knees obscuring the thighs above thick calves clad in knitted stockings. She lifted her attention to biceps hardly contained beneath the fabric of his shirt, then back to his face, and swallowed hard. Dear God, the man of her dreams had her in his clutches. She stepped away in an attempt to distance herself from him, but he held her so close the heat from his body sizzled through her clothes. I realize you are upset by what happened to your brother, but he’ll be fine, if you keep him warm. You really need to let go of my arm, my friends are right behind me. They’ll have heard me scream and be here any minute. If you don’t stop this nonsense, you’ll end up being arrested for assault.

His cinnamon eyebrows pulled into a frown. We arrived here hours ago, and I can tell ye, lass, there is nayone else here but ye and Hamish. He pulled a long strip of leather from his sporran. Hush now, and stay still. I dinna want ye to put a spell on me. He made a move to wrap the leather around her wrists.

Ah no, that’s not going to happen. She twisted away and glared at him. Trust me to find a gorgeous lunatic. She swallowed hard. "Put a—what on you—a spell, did you say? What on earth do you mean?"

Aye well, I have not come so close to a member o’ the faerie folk afore, and I am verra surprised ye dinna speak the Gaelic. He eyed her critically. Not to mention having hair the color of heather and clothes made of spun spider webs. I ken ye saved ma brother’s life, which ye might say is unusual for one of your kind. He sighed. Unless ye are planning to take him wi’ ye and leave a changeling in his place. His gaze raked over her clothes, then back to her face. Ye dinna look evil, but I canna let ye take ma brother wi’ ye. I dinna have a choice, lass. I will tie your hands, and ye can bide here awhile. Nay doubt by nightfall your folk will come for ye.

Kate concentrated on his broad accent in an attempt to understand each word. The idiot was serious and thought she was some mythical creature trying to steal his brother. He was intent on tying her up and leaving her. She glared at the man in disbelief. For God’s sake, this was the twenty-first century, and nobody mistook people for mythical creatures—aliens maybe, but not faeries.

Think! From the size of him, any attempt at fighting such a strong man would get her nowhere. She had to re-think her strategy.

Drawing a deep breath to steady her frazzled nerves, she smiled, then enunciated each word to make sure he understood. "I don’t want your brother—or you, for that matter. Why would you think such a thing? He needed my help, and look at him, he’s fine now isn’t he? You don’t have to tie me. I’m not going to harm anyone. I just want to go back to the bus, okay? She checked the boy again and tucked the jacket around him. The color was slowly returning to his cheeks, but his blue lips worried her. In the meantime, have you anything else to use to keep him warm? Light a fire perhaps, or wrap your plaid around him? I’m sure you won’t freeze to death."

I am an honorable man and will not walk around bare arsed in front of a woman, and nay, I will not leave ye alone wi’ him to collect kindling for a fire. I dinna trust ye. He narrowed his gaze. He is warming now, foreby. He rubbed the boy’s back in long, even strokes.

By the determined expression on the man’s face, she had not won any favors by saving his brother. In fact, the way his attention flicked back and forth from her to the Faerie Tree, he appeared to be a more than a little uncomfortable by her presence. From the tour guide’s hair-raising tales of Scottish folklore, many people still believed all hell would break loose if a person disrespected sacred places. Did I do something stupid to upset him? She refused to believe her actions had caused a problem, but from his expression, the stupid Faerie Tree might as well have dragged its roots from the ground and chased after her.

Unsure of how to placate the huge Scotsman, she played her female in distress card and dropped her lashes. "I’m very sorry if I disrespected a sacred site. I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted a closer look."

Oh, aye and for what reason might that be? I dinna see ye tie a note on the tree as most do. In fact, I dinna see ye at all until ye came bursting through the mist and pounced on ma brother. He grimaced. Ye are verra lucky I dinna run ye through with ma blade, for I thought ye were sucking out his soul. He leaned closer and the warm, musky, male scent of him washed over her. Or do ye make a habit o’ kissing a lad of twelve summers? Because if ye do, it is not something me or ma clan would appreciate.

Fighting the overwhelming desire to lean closer and inhale more of his intoxicating scent, she straightened. Shit! I have lost my mind. Get a grip, woman. He might hit every bell on her sex-o-meter but, hell he had tried to tie her up. Instead, she gave him her best attempt at a haughty glare. Heaven’s above, he could not be that dumb. I performed CPR to save his life. She met his blank expression. You know, ‘the kiss of life’…um…earth to Scotsman, come in please.

Ye words are verra strange but I do understand the word ‘kiss’ and if it is a lover ye are seeking, ye will need a man, not a lad. He inclined his head to examine her face, then slid his large hand under her hair and touched her ear. If ye are not of the Fae, then ye will not mind showing me your ears.

His gentle touch didn’t frightened her. Instead, the heat radiating from him soothed her nerves, and his soft Scottish brogue cast a strange, hypnotic effect over her. She leaned into his palm, drawn to his masculine musk. The enticing thought of melting into his arms flashed across her mind and she pulled away, appalled at her primal reaction to him. What is happening to me? She pushed words from her dry mouth. What have my ears got to do with faeries?

He ran one rough finger down her ear in a soft caress and frowned. I had a notion faerie folk had pointed ears, but then ye can change shape too, aye? He dropped his hand. I ken how ye are able to lure a man to his death, and I ken how many fools would fall for your wiles. Ye do have a most pleasing countenance. His full lips curled into a smile. Aye, ye are verra bonnie and, maybe tupping ye would be worth dying for.

Tupping? Oh shit, is that what I think it means? Her skin tingled from his touch, and she dragged her eyes away from his magnetic, emerald gaze. She wet suddenly dry lips, and his attention moved straight to her mouth. The freezing wind cut though her damp clothes, chilling her to the bone, and broke the spell he had woven with his unique sexuality. Oh boy, she had to be hallucinating from the foul bog water or gone crazy and fallen down the rabbit hole to fall for his charm. I’m so stupid and gullible. Get a grip, Kate. She spoke slowly in an attempt to make him understand. I-am-not-a-faerie.

Good grief, had this man lived in this remote area all his life? Obviously, women in his town never dyed their hair blue or enjoyed the comfort of spandex. She took in his troubled expression, and her annoyance dissipated. Although, she had to admit, he was acting a trifle strange, the fact didn’t worry her, after all, people reacted differently to stress.

It is not that I dinna appreciate ye restoring ma brother’s life, it is what ye plan to take in payment that worries me. His eyebrows rose. I ken the faerie folk expect a boon, aye?

How many times do I have to explain? She changed tactics and gave him her best smile. "No need. I was happy to help. I expect being so isolated, you haven’t witnessed CPR, and when it works it is pretty amazing."

Aye, I ken ye used magic, for only a spell can raise people from the dead. What are ye if not a faerie? A witch? Nay, ye are too bonny, and ye speak English so, mayhap ye are a pixie or a shape-shifting Doonie. I have heard tales about pixies, but they never do good deeds. He scratched a growth of red whiskers on his chin. I must admit, I have never met the likes of ye afore. What are ye?

And I’ve never met anyone like you either, so we’re square. She searched