Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) Read Free

ears listened.
    The baron’s son, Alexander, who spied, curious to catch a glimpse of sex, heard more than he’d bargained for. Naturally, he told his mother who told his father. When his father learned the truth he cried a mighty roar.
    But the King’s will was the King’s will.
    In one fell swoop, because of a mere woman, the highland laird had lost the land in which the Brouns ruled, East Lothian. This land—as all knew—would become one of the most powerful seats in Scottish diplomacy.
    Iosbail steered her horse along the coast and grinned.
    She had a new target.
    A new time.
    Young Alexander, all grown up.
    She hadn’t lied when she told Adlin she would make it all better. Indeed she would. She’d ensure that the Sinclair clan destroyed themselves.
    Better yet, she’d ensure that their chieftain, Alexander Sinclair, saw to it.

Chapter Two
     
    Northern Scotland
     
    Sinclair Clan
    1094
     
    “Where the bloody hell is it?” Alexander yelled.
    “Over your shoulder, my laird!
    But it was too late.
    The mock arrow met its target.
    With a heavy thump, Alexander fell to the ground. The world spun. The sky grew cloudy. Yet he smiled. Triumphant, he said, “Down with the enemy!”
    “Down with the enemy!” the men cried.
    “’Tis not right in the head, what you do.” Shamus held down his hand, hair wild, smile broad.
    “Makes them happy, aye?”
    “ Me thinks it makes you happy.”
    “My Irish friend,” he murmured as he stood and pulled free the mock arrow from his armor. “A happy following is a true following. Remember that.”
    “You overestimate.”
    “Nay, ‘tis a good thing to let them see my sense of humor.”
    Shamus tipped his head and raised his brows in resignation. “So you say. Then again, wearing British armor makes for a bloody good target. Could be you made it too easy.”
    “Aye.” Alexander rolled his shoulders and flexed his muscles beneath the heavy chainmail. “’Tis no wonder they move like slugs on the battlefield. Leave it to the Sassenach to carry so much weight only to protect their delicate skin.”
    “You forget too easily your kin once welcomed the Sassenach king.” With a gesture, Shamus waved for some skins of mead.
    “Perhaps my da. Never me. Enough with this.” Alexander leaned over and slid the metal off his body. Slick with sweat, he received the mead and winked at the comely lass who’d delivered it. Thirsty, he drank long and deep.
    “Perhaps you’ll visit my chambers later?” She mouthed silently.
    No need to nod. The lass knew he would. Alexander watched her walk away, smiling in appreciation at the purposeful sway of her hips.
    “’Tis time you take a wife, my friend.”
    “No point in it. At least not yet. ‘Twill be the king’s match when the time comes, not mine,” he remarked.
    “I’d say the time is coming soon.” Shamus shook his head. “There’s unrest in the south.”
    “The Broun’s,” Alexander muttered under his breath. “Ever the thorn in our side.”
    “Old disputes never go away in this country.” Shamus said a prayer under his breath. “Much like in my homeland.”
    “Edgar won’t dare marry me off to a Broun. I’d rather fight a wild boar blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back then lay with that sort.”
    Though his memory wasn’t as clear as it used to be, he still remembered his father’s rage when he’d learned he’d lost so much land to the whisperings of a Broun lass who’d found her way into King William’s bed. For shame the man was swayed by a mere slip of a girl.
    When his blood heated not with rage but lust, Alexander inwardly groaned. Though he’d only seen the slim curve of her back and long black waves of hair, witnessing that woman straddling the king had been, by far, the most erotic moment of his life. The way the candles had flickered and she’d shifted slightly, purposefully, not so much that he could see her face but enough that he knew she knew he was there.
    Had it been her