My Highland Laird - J.L. Langley

PROLOGUE

August 10, 4829: Planet Skye

West of Lochwood Castle on the edge of A’Gul Woods

Och, but one of these days, his cousin’s libido was going to be the death of him; Ciaran was certain of it. He’d spent two hours on horseback already, and no way were they ever going to make it before dark. This was their big day. Their fostering was over, and they were finally going home. Ciaran glanced up at the darkening sky with its wispy clouds, then at his cousin.

“We’re going tae miss supper with the clan in the great hall.”

Ram smiled, showing off the dimples he was renowned for. His hair was still mussed from whatever lass’s bed he’d crawled out of. “Cook will still feed us. Besides, I wasnae that late.”

Shaking his head, Ciaran couldn’t quite contain his smirk. “Ye five minutes was more like an hour. Ye ken, they probably have a big feast planned fer our homecoming.”

“They do have a celebration planned, and Ciaran is right—we’re going to be late for it.” Patrick, who rode on Ram’s other side, chuckled and leaned over to pluck a piece of hay from Ram’s hair. “What was it again that you had to do before leaving, Ram?”

Perhaps it was a hayloft rather than a bed.

Ram rubbed his nose and sniffed.

“More like who instead of what,” Grant said from slightly behind them.

They all chuckled.

Ram at least had the decency to blush, though he did puff his chest out a bit, but then he wrinkled his nose and rubbed it again.

Duncan hurried his horse up beside Ciaran’s and grinned at them. “I just want tae ken who the lass was.”

“A gentleman never tells. And I’ll have ye all ken I was saying my goodbyes,” Ram declared and pulled ahead of them with his chin firmly in the air, then promptly covered one nostril with his finger, leaned over, and blew snot out of his nose.

More laughter ensued.

Rolling his eyes, Ciaran snorted. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t be going back to visit. Och, but he was really going to miss Patrick and Marcus.

“Oh yes, you are a gentleman and a scholar,” Patrick quipped.

Ciaran laughed along with the rest of the group, but truth be told, he was actually okay with Ram’s delay. They’d been home on visits—Ellenwine Castle, the Campbell keep, wasn’t far from it—but he was nervous about going home for good. Not, of course, that he’d admit that to anyone. What if he didn’t live up to his father’s expectations now that he would be around all the time? What if he couldn’t learn the managerial things about being a chieftain as quickly as he’d learned to be a warrior?

“Why dinna we just go through A’Gul Woods?” Boyd asked. He’d been bringing up the rear, but he hurried alongside Ciaran, pointing to the woods on their right.

Glancing at the tall oaks and pines of A’Gul Woods, Ciaran grinned. Those woods bordered his clan’s land, acting as a natural defense against enemies. At night there was a constant low fog, giving it a very mystical feel. He’d played in those woods as a child because it butted up against the castle wall and ended at the back of his aunt Agatha’s cottage. If they turned now and headed into the woods, it would only take them fifteen minutes to get to the MacKay keep, assuming one took the right path. A man could just as easily get lost in those woods for hours.

Resigning himself to another hour in the saddle, Ciaran said, “They are haunted.” He trusted the Campbells, but he preferred to keep the shortcut to his home secret.

“Really?”

“Oh, aye,” Ram answered with a straight face. “There are bogles and fae, and I’ve even seen a kelpie. Loch Sterling is on the other side of Lochwood Castle, dinna ye ken?”

“It’s really haunted?” Boyd asked again, his voice full of wonder and a bit of apprehension. It took everything Ciaran had not to laugh.

Patrick didn’t have as much restraint; he chuckled and rode ahead of all of them. “We are not going through the woods.”

Out of nowhere a thin beam of red stretched across the gloaming, then disappeared. Then another and another. Like little fireflies. There were dozens of them, and they were beautiful.

Ciaran stared, fascinated. “What is that?”

Everyone seemed to stop, puzzled by the phenomena.

Next to him, one of the lights landed on Duncan’s chest. “It’s on m—” He froze, his eyes widened, and he fell from the saddle so quickly Ciaran couldn’t process what had happened,

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