A Highlander's Heart: A Sexy Regency Romance (Highland Knights Book 1) Read Free Page A

“Captain Sir Colin Stirling, milady.” He lifted his head, studying her intently. She thought that this man might have known of her existence. He didn’t gaze at her with the fascinated surprise of the other men, but rather with curiosity.
    “I’m sorry to tell ye we havena found him yet,” the captain said softly. “We’ve been searching the field, but there’re so many—”
    Claire’s hand flew to her chest. “Is he dead?” she gasped.
    The tightness around Captain Stirling’s lips exposed his worry. “We canna be sure. Not till we find him.”
    “Will you take me to the battlefield? May I help in the search?”
    He hesitated, then nodded. “Aye, milady, if that is what you wish. We’ll go now.”
    Flanked by soldiers for protection from the rabble, they walked down a pitted road to the site of the battle, Grace and Claire, side by side, following the major, while their maid followed behind. Mud sucked at Claire’s shoes, the mist beaded on her cheeks, and a chilling cold began to creep into her bones.
    They passed through a narrow line of trees, and Captain Stirling came to an abrupt halt. Claire looked past him and sucked in a breath.
    “Oh God,” she whispered.
    A trampled field heaped with bodies of horses and men. Debris everywhere. Smoke still rising from scattered fires. People sobbing and calling. Others standing still, as she was, just taking in the destruction…the sea of desolation and death…
    But it was impossible to take it all in. It was so oppressive as to be unbearable.
    “He was there,” Captain Stirling said, his voice full of gravel. He gestured to his left. “My troops were just there, but I couldna see him, the smoke of cannon and musket fire was so thick. I didna ken…” The words dwindled away.
    Grace laid her hand on the captain’s shoulder, and Claire saw that the man was trembling. The horror of yesterday would not be leaving these men anytime soon.
    Claire swallowed past her bone-dry throat. “You ought to go back, Captain. I’ll search for him. I shall let you know if we find him.”
    “Major Campbell would never forgive me if I left ye alone in this place. I’ll stay.”
    “Thank you,” Grace said softly. She and Claire agreed to separate so they could cover more distance. Claire went to the right, where Captain Stirling had said Rob had started the battle. Grace went farther to the left, at the other end of the line of the Gordon Highlanders.
    And then it began. The endless slog through destruction and misery. Death felt like a living thing, shimmering up into the air in stinking waves of blood and flesh and smoke.
    Rob couldn’t be dead, Claire thought firmly as she walked through the nightmare. She wouldn’t stand for it. She hadn’t apologized yet, and Providence wouldn’t allow her to travel to the Continent at all if she wasn’t able to come in time for her apology.
    She picked her way over the battlefield—instantly dismissing those in blue coats, looking closer at those in red. She found two Gordon Highlanders, one man who’d lost both his arms and who stared blankly up at the sky with cloudy blue eyes. One a private who was injured and moaning softly, apparently having suffered a terrible blow to his leg. She called one of the surgeons over to attend to him and continued to search for her husband.
    It was hopeless. Her stomach was so twisted, and she was growing lightheaded. It was too much. Just…too much. How did one take in all that she was seeing? It was simply impossible.
    Ahead in the distance, a russet-haired, broad-shouldered man crouched on one knee, looking down at one of his fallen comrades. Judging by the fit of his jacket, he could be one of the Gordon Highlanders. But she couldn’t tell if he wore the Gordon tartan by the way he was positioned behind the body.
    Claire took a step in his direction, and he looked up. He studied her for a moment from across the battlefield, then he rose unsteadily, his hand moving to doff a hat