Jake (The Highland Clan Book 4)

 

 

Jake Ramsay, eldest son of the chief of Clan Grant, has always felt the weight of his sire’s shadow. Tales of Alexander Grant’s prowess are whispered throughout the Highlands, and Alex’s loving marriage to Jake’s mother, Maddie, is equally legendary. Jake’s not sure he can live up to his birthright, but when he rescues a beautiful, strong-willed lass from a horrible fate, such concerns start to seem inconsequential. He becomes consumed with the need to protect the lass, Aline, and punish the man who hurt her.

 

The past two years of Aline’s life have been pure misery. A wicked man stole her from her home and then controlled and used her. But when Jake, the handsome Highlander who rescued her, brings her to the Grant keep, she feels like she’s entered a fairy tale. The Grants welcome her into their hearts and home, but while she wishes more than anything to stay, her abuser is not the only one she left behind. She must return to the wretch’s keep.

 

In his quest to save Aline, Jake discovers her abuser is in league with another man, one with violent ambitions in the Highlands. In order to save his clan and his love, he will have to stop worrying about his sire’s legacy and start creating one of his own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Grants and Ramsays in 1280s

 

 

GRANTS

 

 

LAIRD ALEXANDER GRANT, and wife, MADDIE

John (Jake)

James (Jamie)

Kyla

Connor

Elizabeth

 

BRENNA GRANT and husband, QUADE RAMSAY

Torrian and wife, Heather, daughter, Nellie, and son

Lily and husband, Kyle, twin daughters

Bethia

Gregor

Jennet

 

ROBBIE GRANT and wife, CARALYN

Ashlyn (Caralyn’s daughter from a previous relationship)

Gracie (Caralyn’s daughter from a previous relationship)

Rodric (Roddy)

Padraig

 

BRODIE GRANT and wife, CELESTINA

Loki (adopted) and wife, Arabella, sons, Kenzie and Lucas

Braden

Catriona

Alison

 

JENNIE GRANT and husband, AEDAN CAMERON

Riley

Tara

Brin

 

 

RAMSAYS

 

 

QUADE RAMSAY and wife, BRENNA GRANT (see above)

 

LOGAN RAMSAY and wife, GWYNETH

Molly (adopted)

Maggie (adopted)

Sorcha

Gavin

Brigid

 

MICHEIL RAMSAY and wife, DIANA

David

Daniel

 

AVELINA RAMSAY and husband, DREW MENZIE

Elyse

Tad

Tomag

Maitland

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Autumn, the Highlands of Scotland

 

 

Aline of Carron opened her eyes before immediately shutting them. That one slight movement sent pain rippling to every corner of her body, and for what purpose? It had happened again, and she had no idea where the wretched man was.

Hew Gordon, the man who’d stolen her from her home, had brought her to this horrid place just because he thought her “pretty, so pretty.”

Unable to stop herself, she moved her hand to her head, as if holding it could still the ache pounding at the top of her skull. Sleep was the only cure. She’d been in this position before, and she’d learned that sleep was her quickest way out.

A voice boomed from a chair not far away. “I saw you open your eyes, Aline. Open them. We must talk.”

Aline groaned at the sound of her name, at the way he said it, holding the A for an extra breath as if she were his pet. She closed her eyes again, not wishing to look at that handsome, hateful face.

“Aaaaaline. Wake up, Aaaline.”

She heard his footsteps on the floor as he crossed the chamber to her, the scraping of the stools’ legs telling her that he was now next to the bed. He grabbed her hand and she flinched, but he held his grip, pressing his thumb on the bruise on her wrist.

“Aline, why must you be so difficult? I feel so bad when I must hit you. ‘Tis all your fault, but you know that, do you not?”

It was not her fault at all—everything was his doing—but she kept quiet to prevent any more beatings. Even so, he increased the pressure of his thumb on her bruised wrist until she screamed. She struggled to free herself, but he would not loosen his grip, instead taking a sick pleasure in inflicting more pain.

“You did not answer me. You see, I would not have to continue hurting you if you would answer me like a good lass.” He brushed her hair off her forehead. “I love you. You have the most beautiful red locks I have ever seen. Why are you not answering me?” He pressed again, this time adding his nail to increase the punishment. “I’ll ask you again, Aaaaline. You know ‘tis your fault I hurt you, do you not?”

“Aye,” she whispered through her clenched jaw. She dug a finger into her belly. His touch revolted her, so she’d prefer to focus on anything else, even pain she inflicted on herself. “Aye, ‘tis all my fault, Hew.”

“That’s my lassie. You know I love you.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, the lightest of touches. “Now, I know this will pain you, but you will do as I said before if you don’t want more cuts and bruises.”

Her eyes opened, and she brought her gaze up to his. Nay…she was done doing his bidding. Nay. Nay. Nay.

“Are you ready, love? If you please me, I promise to please you.”

“Ale?” Her voice came out in a dry rasp.

“Of course. I’d be happy to get you a drink. I should have thought of that myself.” He dropped her hand and stepped over to the table to pour liquid into a goblet.

“Open up, sweeting,” he said, returning with the full goblet. She ran her tongue across her teeth, thankful to find them all intact, and then opened her lips. Hew poured the liquid down her throat, spilling it over the corners of her mouth. She swallowed, choking on the extra, but he helped her sit up to clear her throat of the fluid.

Hew patted her back to assist her coughing, then rubbed his hand there in a sad attempt to soothe her. He swung her legs over the side of the bed, forcing her to stay in a sitting position.

“Better?”

She was done following his orders. Done.

“Ready, love?” His finger lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

She shook her head, a hopeless attempt to convince him to stop.

“Aye, you will.” He lifted his plaid and reached underneath to grab himself, stroking his flesh until it turned hard. “I know this will hurt because of the injuries on your mouth, but ‘tis all your fault. Remember that.”

She shook her head a little more vehemently, but he ignored her.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair from the back of her head and yanking, he said, “Now, open up for me. Be a good lass.”

Clenching her jaw together, she tried her best not to open her mouth. She was not going to put that filthy thing in her mouth. He yanked harder, pinching her neck until her mouth flew open reflexively. She did the only thing she could.

She bit him.

***

Jake Alexander Grant held up the rear of the line of horses traveling across the glen back to Grant land. His mood was melancholy, although he wasn’t sure why. As the firstborn heir to the famous Highland chieftain, Alexander Grant, he had a grand future ahead of him. His sire was already a legend, having led the Grants’ charge at the Battle of Largs with his horse in mail and himself in a golden helm.

His twin brother Jamie traveled with him along with his cousins, Loki and Kenzie. His sire had sent them out to search the lands for signs of brigands. Reports had told them there were new thieves in the area, but their journey had turned up naught.

Jake’s twin, Jamie, yelled back to him. “What’s bothering you, brother? No sweet lassie in your bed last night?” His twin cast him a fleeting grin over his shoulder. “You’re losing your appeal, lad.”

Jake snorted at his younger brother. They’d both enjoyed the benefits of being the laird’s sons over the years, having their choice of lasses, but of late, the company of bawdy lasses had lost its appeal.

Jamie slowed his horse, pulling his golden locks out of his eyes before he spoke to his older brother. “You’ll never get over that fateful day we were caught, will you?”

Jake glared at his brother, refusing to answer such a foolish question. “Move ahead, Jamie. Leave me to my thoughts.”

Jamie flicked the reins of his horse, traveling back to the front of the line.

Though he and Jamie were twins, they couldn’t be more different. They’d both inherited the blue eyes of their mother Maddie, but Jake’s hair was dark as his father’s and Jamie’s was fair like his mother’s. Jake was the more serious of the two, and Jamie was the trickster, always aiming to get a laugh from his audience. While both were fit—their sire would have it no other way—and tall, Jake had the broader shoulders and chest.

Years of fighting in the lists together for hours at a time had bonded them closer even than their bond of brotherhood, and it had molded them into the best warriors possible. Even though they were one and twenty summers, their da was still trying to make them even stronger.

Whenever they asked their sire why he would not be kinder to them, Alex Grant would answer, “Quite simple, lads. I would never survive seeing the pain in your mother’s eyes if either of you were hurt, so I work to prevent it from happening.”

Neither of them could hope to best their da in the lists—no one had other than their cousin Loki. Loki and the twins’ sire sparred all the time, but neither stayed supreme, instead trading off their wins depending on the day.

While no one else wished to admit the great Grant laird was aging, Jake knew it to be true. He was the more sensitive of the twins, and he saw the pain his sire hid from the others.

Jamie asked, “Do you suppose Uncle Logan will be here soon? The messenger said he’d be traveling our way as soon as possible. I’m anxious to hear what transpired with our cousins while in Edinburgh.”

Loki replied, “You know whenever Uncle Logan is in Edinburgh that something happened, and I’m guessing it still has much to do with the Buchans.”

Loki’s adopted son Kenzie added, “I do not like those Buchans. Pig-nuts they are.”

“Saints above, Loki. He even sounds like you.” Jake laughed at the two of them. Kenzie, who was around seven summers, had been living in a crate in Ayr when his sire had found him and adopted him. Kenzie traveled everywhere with Loki, including to their cousins, the Ramsays. Loki had been given his own castle not far from the Grant Castle, but he loved venturing out with Jake and Jamie. Kenzie had named Loki’s castle Castle Curanta, which meant brave and heroic.

Loki stared at the gray sky. “I think we’re about to get drenched. Look at the storm clouds rolling over the mountains.”

They had almost made it home when something called to him. The signal was not loud or clear, but his instincts told him it was not be ignored. He held up the end of the long line of horses coming up through the glen, though he waved the two guards closest to him on ahead.

He stopped his horse.

Not moving, he listened, but there was no sound attached to this nagging feeling. The only thing he heard was his twin brother shouting back to him that the group was riding onward so they could get back to Grant land before the impending rains drenched them. He waved his brother onward, not allowing anything to distract him.

A sound finally called to him off to his left, the faintest rustling from somewhere in the woods, the kind of subtle noise his sire, Alex Grant, had oft warned him to listen for. He climbed off his horse, pulling his sword out of its sheath and moving toward the forest.

The faintest of raindrops could be heard as they hit the leaves still left on the trees. The downpour would start soon, but that same instinct told him he could not leave. Then he caught sight of something hidden on the ground near a bush. It lay completely still, so he doubted whoever or whatever it was still lived. Hell, but he hoped it wasn’t a dead body. He did not handle death well.

Jake held his breath as he leaned in to pull more branches back, but the sight before him made him gasp aloud. He bent down on one knee to get a closer look. He let out a low whistle when he saw a trim ankle, dusky colored, jutting out from the lump of material.

He’d seen women beaten before but this, this…was way beyond anything he’d ever seen. He was so undone by the sight of her, his hands moved automatically without needing any specific directions. Moving the dirt and leaves off the lass, he scooped her into his arms to pick her up.

Dark red locks, dirty and matted, fell away from her face as he lifted her into the air. He had no idea what color her eyes were beneath her long lashes, but her porcelain skin had a dusting of freckles across her nose and delicate cheekbones, though the swelling indicated one of them might be broken. Long pale legs hung over his arm, so covered in blood that her clothing stuck to her in various places.

He lifted her skirt just to see the extent of her injuries, and his reaction was immediate. Dropping the fabric, he gagged, turning his head to the side because he thought he might heave all over the ground. Who could treat a lass so?

Once he recovered, he moved toward his horse, whistling for his brother to return to assist him. While he waited, he held her close as an overwhelming need to protect her descended on him. He vowed to find the whoreson who did this and make him pay. His honor as a Highlander demanded it of him. It was such an all-consuming need that he did not care if his clan would help him right this wrong. He’d take this on by himself, if need be.

He held his ear down to her mouth and heard her shallow breathing. She was still alive, but for how long?

He settled his forehead against hers and closed his eyes before he whispered, “I’ll protect you, lass. You have my word.”

“Jamie!” He whistled for his brother.

Loki appeared in front of him. “Saints above.” He stared at the lass in his arms. “What animal did that?”

“A sick, demented bastard is my guess. Hold her while I mount up, then hand her to me.” Jake held his ear to her mouth, praying she was still alive. Her body was still warm, though it would not be for long. “She still breathes, albeit shallow.”

Loki helped him while Jamie and Kenzie came up beside them, the other Grant guards finally waiting for them on horseback.

Kenzie stared at her, a shocked expression on his wee face. “What will you do with her?”

“Take her home,” Jake said, settling her in his arms. “My mother and Aunt Caralyn will heal her.”

Jamie stared at the ground, then lifted his gaze to his brother. “Are you sure you wish to do that?”

“Why in hell not?”

Loki said, “What I think ‘tis because of your mother.”

Jamie pursed his lips before he spoke. “I can speak for myself, but he’s correct. Do you really want to bring all those memories back to our mother? Or to Da? We must help her, but mayhap it would be better for Mama if you brought her to Loki’s castle.”

Jake had the lass settled in front of him. He grabbed the reins of the horse and lifted his chin to his brother. “Move on. ‘Tis starting to rain as we speak. There’s a cave ahead, and I’ll take her there if the rain is too much.”

As soon as the horse moved to a canter, the lass moaned. Though he hated to see her in pain, at least he knew she was still alive. He continued, “I’m taking her home. Mama and Papa will deal with it.”

Loki turned to him as he passed him on his horse. “We can take her to Castle Curanta to stay with Bella, if you would prefer. Jamie has a valid point.”

“I appreciate the offer, Loki, but I’ll not leave her anywhere else. Nay, I’ll take her home. They will handle it, and I believe ‘tis what Da would do. Mama would want the same, though it may be difficult for her.”

The rain came down harder, so they moved to gallop, finally crossing into Grant land as the sky opened up, dumping torrential rain. Unfortunately, every move they made caused the lass to scream out in pain. She clutched his plaid and whispered, but he could not understand her words. Bending his head down, he placed his lips next to her ear.

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