A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,86
MacNab?”
“Allison MacNab, aye.” Ian gave him a slow nod. “She was Padruig’s kinswoman. Distant. In the same clan.”
“Did Gair and Padruig really have the French gold?” Ian’s oldest daughter, Belle, asked.
Ian shrugged. “So Will Mackenzie believed. Fiona’s journal doesn’t say what was in the bag Padruig gave her.”
“It was some of the gold,” Jamie declared. “I’m sure of it.”
“How can you know?” Belle asked. “If no one has said for certain?”
“Because Gair and Padruig were old scoundrels. Of course they wouldn’t confess they had all the gold from the French king.” Jamie’s older-brother scoff was firm.
Belle, who had plenty of fire, began to argue. The discussion was taken up by other Mackenzies, including Ian’s brothers Mac and Cameron, all having an opinion to share.
Ian let them go on while his gaze went to Beth, her blue eyes shining in merriment.
Ian enjoyed the stories of the past, when his ancestors had fought to survive, using cunning and craftiness to keep themselves and their families safe. They’d lived and loved with intensity in a time when Scotland had been untamed.
As Ian glanced about the full room, he decided that as interesting as the past must have been, now was better. Ian was surrounded by his family and his wife—who loved him and whom he loved back with vehemence.
They’d saved his life, especially Beth, who bent down to kiss his cheek. She’d made certain Ian could sit in peace, surrounded by warmth and love.
That was the truest gift of all.
* THE END *
About Jennifer Ashley
Thank you for reading! This novella is a part of the Mackenzies / McBrides series, which begins with The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. For more information on this series and others, see the website: www.jenniferashley.com.
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Ashley has more than 100 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, mystery, and historical fiction under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley Gardner. Jennifer’s books have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have earned starred reviews in Publisher’s Weekly and Booklist. When she isn’t writing, Jennifer enjoys playing music (guitar, piano, flute), cooking, reading, hiking, and building dollhouse miniatures.
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No part of this publication may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any manner whatsoever, electronically, in print, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both Oliver-Heber Books and Tanya Anne Crosby, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Bound for a marriage she hopes will save her cousin from the gibbet, Lady Elizabeth Louise Wolfe finds herself en route to Scotland to marry the younger son of a known traitor to the Crown. Fate intervenes when, on the way, she checks into an inn and registers as the “MacKinnon’s bride.” Presumed dead at Culloden, Callum MacKinnon, stops by the inn as well, intending to clean up before his return as the prodigal son. Imagine his surprise to discover his “bride to be” has already procured a room. And more—the feisty sassenach everything he never realized he desired.
Chapter One
December 31, 1746
Lady Elizabeth Louise Wolfe fidgeted in her seat, feeling the tension mount in her shoulders as the carriage wended its way closer to their intended destination: Chreagach Mhor, a no-man’s-land eight months after Culloden.
The old laird had been executed, the elder son as well—traitors to England, so she’d been told. Now, if only to further someone’s notion of justice, she was consigned to wed the younger son, who was only too callow to reveal himself a traitor… as yet.
What was he? Fourteen? Fifteen?
Young and malleable, Lachlan MacKinnon was to be “softened” by Elizabeth and then mentored by her Uncle. If she succeeded, England would have itself a new northern “friend.”
If she failed…
She would be married to an undesirable at best.
A traitor, at worst.
But that alone wasn’t what bothered her most. Rather, she appreciated men and women who followed the dictates of their hearts and stood up for causes they believed in—like her. Or at least she liked to believe they were like her. And really, it took courage even