Highlander's Return: The Sinclair Brothers Trilogy, Bonus Novella (Book 2.5) (4 page)

July, 1307

Laoch strode smoothly beneath him, though Burke
barely remembered leaving the loch and heading out once again, so lost in
thought was he.

Ahead of him, he spotted a tower rising from a
green, rolling hill. His heart sank. Without realizing it, he had guided Laoch
toward Brora Tower.

He was about to pull the stallion sharply northward,
but he paused. Nearly ten years had passed since he had last seen Meredith or
the tower. Curiosity niggled at him. What harm would it do just to look—from a
safe distance, of course—at the tower?

He spurred Laoch on, halting just at the edge of a
copse of trees so that he would remain relatively obscured from view.

The sight of the tower still stirred him. He gazed
at it for several long moments, especially the window through which Meredith
used to appear whenever they would have one of their secret rendezvous.

Just then, a flicker of movement along the landing
surrounding the tower’s roof caught his eye. He glanced up, and his stomach tumbled
to the ground like a boulder.

Could it be her?

A woman leaned against the tower’s parapet, her
chestnut hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. She was thin, frail almost,
but the quiet, graceful set of her shoulders was unmistakable.

Meredith.

She had lost all traces of her girlish playfulness,
which were replaced with a somber yet ethereal grace. Her skin was paler than
he remembered, but he could make out her dark eyes even from this distance.

She turned her head a little toward him, as if she
sensed his presence. He thought of guiding Laoch further back into the copse,
but a movement would only draw her attention more, so he sat motionless, gazing
up at her. Even though he remained still, her eyes locked on him, and he could
see that her lips parted in a surprised gasp.

Without thinking, he dug his heels into Laoch’s
sides, sending him bolting from the copse of trees and past the tower toward
the northeast.

He spurred Laoch into a gallop, trying to run away
from the tower and the beautiful apparition of Meredith Sutherland as fast as he
could.

He was a coward—a coward and a fool for thinking
that he could innocently see Brora Tower or Meredith ever again. He had made
his choice ten years ago—or rather, Murray Sutherland had made their choice for
them. Why would he still hold out hope, all these years later, that the pain of
the past could be erased?

Burke rode hard through the raised portcullis in the
curtain wall of Roslin Castle. He tossed the reins to a stable lad and slid
from Laoch’s back just as Robert, Laird of the Sinclair clan, arrived in the
courtyard.

“Where is Garrick?” Robert said, his voice laced
with concern for his younger brother, who was supposed to return with Burke.

“All is well, Robert. He went to the Bruce’s camp
with the same news that I must share with you.”

Robert’s already stormy countenance darkened. Just
then, though, Lady Alwin, Robert’s wife, waddled from the keep into the yard
behind him. Even in the month or so since he had seen her, she had grown much
bigger with the heir to the Sinclair Lairdship.

“Burke!” she huffed, a strained smile on her face.
“You’ve returned! I’ll have a meal prepared and send a bath to your room.”

Robert turned to his pregnant wife and spoke in a
low voice, though Burke could hear him. “Alwin, what have I told you about
overextending yourself? You should be resting in the solar.”

Alwin waved him away as if he were a fly, but her
eyes held warmth and merriment for her husband and his concern. “Nonsense. I am
perfectly able to see to Burke’s comfort after what looks to have been a long
and harrowing journey.”

Her eyes appraised him, and Burke realized that he
must look terrible. His clothes were soiled with dirt and blood. His hair was
pulled back and fastened at his neck, but he hadn’t shaved in at least a few
weeks, and the light brown scruff could rightly be called a beard now.

“Thank you, Lady Alwin. I will be grateful for a hot
meal and a bath, but I must speak with the Laird first. It is pressing,” he
said, shifting his eyes to Robert.

Robert nodded curtly. He motioned for Burke to
follow him into the keep and toward a small meeting room off the main hall.
Alwin peeled off from them once they were inside, calling out orders for food
and a bath to the kitchen staff.

Once the heavy wooden door of the small, dim meeting
room was shut, Burke launched into an account of the events of the last few
weeks. Robert listened silently as he leaned back in a sturdy chair, his hand
occasionally coming up to rub his chin in thought.

Burke told of Garrick and his successful information
gathering in Dunbraes Village, and their encounter with a healer lass named
Jossalyn. When Burke described how Jossalyn had stowed away with them on their
way back north into Scotland, Robert frowned but remained silent.

But then the heart of Burke’s news had the Laird
sitting bolt upright, a dark scowl on his face and a cold fire in his pale blue
eyes. Burke repeated the words that had shaken him to his core that day several
weeks ago on the outskirts of Dunbraes: Longshanks was dead.

The Hammer of the Scots could no longer torment
them, but his son, Edward II, could prove to be even worse than his father.
Only time would tell, but regardless, King Edward I was dead.

Robert remained rigid and perched on the edge of his
seat as Burke described Raef Warren’s return to Dunbraes, Garrick’s rescue of
Jossalyn, who was actually Warren’s sister, the battle that ensued, and their
flight north. They were somewhat delayed because of the wound Burke had
received to his leg, but Jossalyn had tended to it, and had probably saved
Burke’s life.

Robert ran a hand through his hair, his eyes
shifting across the ceiling in thought. “Longshanks is dead. And Warren still
eludes us.” He sprang from his chair and began pacing the small room.

“We were lucky to escape with our lives. But
Warren’s time will come, I’m sure of it.”

“And Garrick opted to return to the Bruce’s camp to
deliver this news?” Robert’s voice tightened with annoyance at his younger
brother’s disregard for the direct order to return to Roslin.

“Aye, with Lady Jossalyn,” Burke replied.

That had Robert’s brows shooting up in surprise.
Burke tried to keep his features blank. Garrick could deliver the news of his
love for Lady Jossalyn—if the stubborn fool could ever admit it to himself.

Even though he schooled his features to perfect
smoothness, Robert knew Burke too well.

“My brother and Raef Warren’s sister, eh?” He paced
for another moment, then seemed to decide something. “I suppose that’s no more
preposterous than the Laird of the Sinclair clan marrying the English fiancée
of that warmongering bastard.”

A little smile tugged at the corners of Burke’s
mouth. The Sinclair men had a strange way of choosing mates, no doubt about it.
But then again, Robert and Garrick were two of the luckiest, happiest men Burke
had ever met when it came to their partners.

For a fleeting moment, Burke considered his place
among his cousins. Like Robert and Garrick, he had chosen to fall in love with
a woman who by all measures should never be his. But unlike his two older
cousins, Burke reminded himself grimly, he hadn’t overcome the odds and secured
an unusual but joyous union.

Robert was watching him closely, so he tried to push
the dark thoughts away.

“You must have made good time, even with the delays for
that injury to your leg,” Robert said carefully. “Which route did you take?”

“We cut east, then north to avoid Warren’s search.
After Garrick and Jossalyn turned east outside of Inverness, I came straight—”
Suddenly it dawned on Burke what Robert was getting at. “Straight across
Sutherland lands.” Robert knew him too well. He should have known that his
Laird and friend would guess at the cause of his suddenly dark mood.

Robert took to his chair once again and motioned for
Burke to sit as well. “I’ve had some news myself, Burke. I heard at a recent
Highland clans meeting that Chisolm Sutherland has finally passed on.”

Burke was halfway seated in the chair across from
Robert’s as the words were spoken. He collapsed the rest of the way into the
chair, his legs suddenly no longer working properly.

“What?”

“Laird Kenneth Sutherland mentioned it in passing. It
seems that Kenneth’s cousin, Ansel, will have to leave Dunrobin soon to return
to Brora Tower now that Chisolm is dead. Laird Sutherland feels the loss
keenly, though I don’t think he ever liked Chisolm. He’s more upset to lose
Ansel, who trained alongside Kenneth in the duties of Lairdship when they were
lads—much like you.” Robert spoke casually, as if he was simply repeating some
light gossip about their neighboring clan, but Burke could feel his sharp eyes
on him, watching him for his reaction.

“That means that Meredith…”

“Aye, Meredith Sutherland is a widow. She is finally
free, Burke.”

Burke’s head spun wildly. “But the clans’ feud—”

“—is so old that no one living can even remember how
it started. Even old Murray Sutherland, who seemed hell-bent on keeping the
feud alive, has been dead nearly ten years now.”

Burke raked a hand through his hair, unable to
respond. He wanted to argue, to insist that he couldn’t simply return to
Sutherland lands and beg once again for Meredith’s hand in marriage. But Robert
was right. And why would Burke try to resist the potential for happiness?

Perhaps, just as he feared when he bolted from Brora
Tower after spotting Meredith on the roof, he truly was a coward. He had put
that part of his life—where he had laid his heart on the line only to be
refused a chance at happiness with Meredith—well behind him now. He had
resigned himself to the fact that he would never have that kind of pure joy
again—hadn’t he?

“Burke,” Robert interrupted his swirling thoughts,
“I know you just got back from a long and difficult journey, but I need you to
do something for me.”

“Anything, Robert.”

“I’d like you to meet with Ansel Sutherland to
discuss the possibility of putting this ancient blood feud behind us. We both
fight for the Bruce and independence from the English now. It’s time we set
aside our differences. Ansel Sutherland will probably already be at Brora
Tower, if Laird Sutherland did indeed send him home.”

Bloody hell, Robert wasn’t going to make this easy.
Burke would be put in Meredith’s path for sure now. And she wasn’t a married
woman anymore.
She is free. But what if she doesn’t want me anymore?
That thought sent him reeling again. Was he willing to risk his pride, his
clan’s honor, and even his life for the chance to have happiness with her?

Aye, he was.

It terrified him to risk himself again, to be
shunned by her family for his clan of origin—or worse, to learn that she had
moved on and forgotten their childish love, while for him it had remained an
open wound in his life.

But he couldn’t be a coward any longer. He had to
face this—face her—if there was any chance for him to find happiness again.

“When shall I leave?”

“Tomorrow morning at first light.”

Meredith had barely slept a wink last night.

It had been him.

It had been Burke Sinclair gazing up at her from a
clump of trees near the base of the tower. No amount of time would make her
forget the sandy-brown hair, strong jawline, broad shoulders, and deep blue
eyes, which were visible even from the tower’s roof.

And he had seen her as well. But why did he ride off
without a word?

These thoughts had gnawed at her all night and
through the morning, despite the many tasks and responsibilities she should be
focused on as the lady of the tower. Even now, she ought to be giving her full
attention to the ledgers spread open on the study’s desk. Though Chisolm hadn’t
wanted her to become involved in clan business, he couldn’t stop her from
running the tower as well as she could now.

Just then a light knock came at the door to the
study.

“Enter.”

“This just came for you, milady,” Beth, Meredith’s
maid, said, extending a missive to her.

“Thank you, Beth.”

When the maid had quietly closed the door behind
her, Meredith looked down at the missive in her hand. It bore her brother’s
seal.

She frowned and broke the seal, hoping all was well
at Dunrobin. It was unusual of Ansel to write.

But the contents of the letter were even more
unusual. Ansel was returning to Brora Tower in a day, two at most. Apparently
Laird Sutherland thought that since Chisolm was dead and Meredith was left to
herself to oversee the tower, she needed her brother’s help.

She tried to push her annoyance away. She loved her
brother and should be grateful for his return, but she rankled at the idea that
she couldn’t run the tower as a defensive stronghold and signaler to Dunrobin
without either her father, husband, or brother with her. Hadn’t she done just
fine when Chisolm had fallen ill last year, and also in the two weeks since his
death?

No matter, she told herself firmly. Her only sibling
would be back under the same roof with her once again. Without Chisolm around
to prevent her from enjoying herself, perhaps she and Ansel could recapture
some of the joy of their childhood.

By the time the evening meal rolled around, she was
decidedly more focused and upbeat. Her brother would be back tomorrow. Burke
Sinclair still lingered in her mind, but she tried to push thoughts of him
aside. After all, he clearly didn’t want to see or speak to her.

After the meal, she made her way up to her chamber.
She slipped from her gown and unwound her braid without the help of her maid.
She was suddenly tired and longed to be alone with her thoughts. Perhaps her
earlier excitement for her brother’s return had been more draining that she
realized. Or perhaps it was the memory of dark blue eyes, soft lips, and
strong, encircling arms that was making her feel weak and empty.

Just as she pulled back the coverlet on her bed, she
heard a soft whistle from outside her window. She ignored it at first,
dismissing it as some lark’s call. As she slipped her feet under the covers,
though, she realized that the sound didn’t match any birdcall she knew.

The whistle came again, and her body went rigid.
Could the tower be under siege? Who was lurking below, and to whom were they
signaling?

She eased out of the bed and slipped silently to the
window. The winter furs had been put away, but the window was still covered
with shutters. As quietly and slowly as possible, she inched the shutters open
a crack and peered through.

She nearly fell backwards at the sight that met her
eyes.

Burke Sinclair stood beneath her window!

Though he was partially shrouded in the bluish
twilight, there was no mistaking his handsome face, large frame, and the dark
red Sinclair plaid around his hips and over his shoulder.

“Meredith! Is that you?” he whispered up to her.

She pushed the shutters all the way open, realizing
that there was no point in trying to conceal herself.

“A-aye, it’s me, Burke Sinclair,” she breathed
shakily.

He smiled in relief, and the sun might as well have
been shining directly in her face. She was struck breathless for a moment at
his handsomeness and the warmth of his smile.

“I’m sorry to disturb you like this. I should have
just knocked on the door, but I didn’t want to disturb the household or—” He
cleared his throat, not saying what they were both thinking.
Or face the
wrath of your feud-fuelled family again
.

The memory of the tower door slamming in Burke’s
face again and again as he pleaded with her father to let him marry her floated
back to her mind. “I understand,” she said quietly. “But what are you doing
here?”

“You mean, what am I doing here
again
?” he
said ruefully. “I-I want to apologize for yesterday. I wasn’t planning on
passing by Brora Tower, nor was I trying to…watch you.”

His voice was strained, but its deep baritone sent
shivers of memory through her. How could just his voice affect her so greatly,
even after all this time?

“I was on my way back to Roslin, but I acted like a
coward to ride off like that.”

“And tonight…?”

“I was sent by Laird Sinclair this morning with all
haste. I am to discuss clan relations with your brother.”

“But Ansel isn’t here yet!”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “He isn’t?”

“Nay, but he should arrive from Dunrobin tomorrow,
or the next day at the latest.”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

“I suppose…I should wait for his return…”

“Of course!” Meredith felt heat suffuse her face,
and she cursed herself. She was being a terrible hostess, and moreover, she was
acting like a moon-eyed girl. Burke had that effect on her—he always had. But
she was a fool to think that she could go back to those dreamlike weeks when
she and Burke had tasted first love. Time had passed. She was no wide-eyed,
innocent lass anymore. She couldn’t hope for things to simply return to how they
used to be.

“I’ll come down and let you in. We can have a room
made up for you right away.”

He hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to put you out. The
tower staff must have already retired for the evening. It is a pleasant night—I
can just sleep in the open out here.”

“Nay!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, hoping no
one else heard her loud exclamation. “What I mean is, I wouldn’t be a very good
hostess while you wait for my brother if I didn’t see that you have a bed to
sleep in,” she said in a lower voice.

His eyes sparkled in the light of the rising moon. “Perhaps
we can compromise. I’ll sleep in the barn tonight. That way, I won’t disturb
your household, but I’ll be off the ground and under a roof.”

If she had thought her face was hot before, it
blazed now. Thankfully, it was dark enough that she doubted he could see her
blushing. The memories of their time together in the barn came flooding
back—their soft, innocent kisses, his strong but gentle hands on her waist, her
hair, her back…

“I’ll come down and see you settled,” she said. Half
of her regretted her offer, for it meant that she would truly be face to face
with Burke again, and in their secret meeting spot, no less. Was she willing to
risk the pain and shame if he had moved on from their youthful infatuation? What
if…what if he were married to another?

But the other half of her had to risk it. She had to
know once and for all if there was anything between them, or if there ever
could be. She had survived Chisolm Sutherland. She could survive this.

She grabbed a cloak from the nearby armoire and
slung it over her chemise, then slid on a pair of slippers. Then she lowered
the old rope ladder out the window. Blessedly, she had never had to use the
ladder for its intended purpose—retreating from a fire, or worse, escaping from
invaders if they managed to infiltrate the tower. The stone walls of the tower house
had never failed them—except to keep her in and Burke out.

As she descended to the last rung, she suddenly felt
his warm, familiar hands around her waist. He helped her down the few extra
feet to the ground, but his hands lingered for a moment. She turned in his
grasp to face him.

His eyes were unreadable in the growing darkness,
and she searched his face for clues as to what he thought. Impossibly, he was
even more handsome now than he had been ten years ago. Though he had always
been tall and broad-shouldered, he had filled out a bit since he was a lad of
nineteen. Even covered in a white linen shirt, his muscular arms and chest were
large and prominent. His jawline was more firm and defined, though it was just
as smooth as she remembered.

After what felt like an eternity, he released his
hold on her waist, and the loss of his touch was nearly painful. She gave
herself a little shake, trying to clear her head.

“You remember the way, I’m sure.”

“Oh aye,” he said huskily.

She turned toward the barn, which stood several yards
off from the tower. Behind her, she heard him take his horse’s reins and walk
the animal by his side. When she reached the barn, she drew back the door and
entered, indicating an empty stall Burke could use for his horse.

As he took the saddle from the animal’s back, she
stood nervously in the doorway, unsure if she should leave or not.

Thankfully, he saved her from having to awkwardly
excuse herself. “I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing all those years
ago,” he said quietly as he ran a hand down his horse’s flank.

“Were you?” She should bite her tongue for such a
sarcastic question, but she wouldn’t lie and pretend. Not anymore.

“Aye,” he said, straightening. “We had
our…differences, but he wanted the best for you.”

This time she did bite her tongue to keep from
saying something unkind about her father, specifically regarding his choice of
husband for her. Burke must not have noticed, for he went on.

“And I have just learned about the death of
your…husband.”

The last word came out a bit gruffer than the
others. Could it still pain him that she had married another?

“I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been hard for
you to lose someone you were so close to for so many years.”

“What?” She couldn’t help the startled exclamation
that burst from her.

He brought his eyes from his horse to her. Though
the barn was dim, the near-full moon rising outside slanted through the wooden
boards, illuminating the confused look on his face.

“I just meant…to lose someone as dear as a spouse…”

So he had no idea of Chisolm’s character or the
nature of their marriage. She lowered her eyes to the straw-covered floor.
“There was no love lost between my husband and me.”

Suddenly he had closed the distance between them,
and his dark gaze bore down on her. “Did he hurt you?”

“Nay, nothing like that,” she said without thinking.
But then she paused, looking back up into Burke’s dark, concerned eyes. “He
never hit me, but he was cruel and cold. He…hurt me in other ways.”

“If the bastard wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him
myself,” Burke said under his breath. Then his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, especially not about the husband of a…friend.”

Her stomach flipped. “Is that what we were—what we
are? Friends?”

Burke exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck with
one hand. “Bloody hell, I’m a fool and a coward. I’ve danced around it long
enough. I should just say what’s on my mind.”

A long second stretched and Meredith thought her
chest would explode from the breath she was holding.

“Meredith, I never stopped loving you.”

Burke’s handsome face swam before her. Just before
her knees gave out and her eyes filled with tears, he took the last step that
stood between them and wrapped a steadying arm around her.

“Are you all right, lass?”

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Could this be
happening? “I-I’m just so…”

His dark blue eyes searched her face, a crease in
his brow marking his confusion and worry.

She took a deep breath and straightened her legs a
bit. “I feel like I’m dreaming. Burke, I never stopped loving you either, even
after all this time.”

A flood of relief washed over his face. He kept his
arm firmly wrapped around her to steady her, and he guided them both toward the
back of the barn. “Can we speak more about this?”

She nodded, then giggled wildly, her excitement and
lightheadedness mingling to make her feel once again like the seventeen year
old girl who had been rescued by this strapping lad before her.

He stopped in front of the ladder to the hay loft
where they used to talk and kiss for hours. She climbed the ladder, with him
close behind her. The scents of the summer evening air blended with the warm
hay up in the loft. All was quiet except for the occasional snort or shift from
the animals below.