Page 1 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
PROLOGUE
Alyth had just arrived back home, at Cairnloch Castle. She had become an expert in the art of moving noiselessly and staying invisible, since these two qualities were necessary for the accomplishment of her mission. At her twentieth year, her well-toned body was quite equal to the task of bending double to creep under low-hanging ledges and squeezing out of seemingly impossibly narrow gaps in the wall.
Wearing a coal-black cloak, she could hide in the shadows and achieve almost total invisibility before climbing like a spider down the outside of the curtain wall that surrounded the castle.
Earlier that night, she had bribed one of the junior stable hands to lead a horse into the open ground beyond the castle. From there Alyth could comfortably trot the two miles to Leithmuir, home of the Carrick Clan, with a few hours to spare before dawn.
Then she would scout around the edge of the massive building, counting the guards, watching their comings and goings and gathering information about them.
Now, though, she had scrambled over the wall to enter the courtyard, only to almost collide with the tall, stern figure of her father.
Laird Colin MacAdams was a fine-featured, handsome man with light-brown hair and deep grey eyes, which he had passed on to his daughter. Alyth’s hair was darker, but she had inherited his good looks in a more feminine form, and it was quite obvious that they were father and daughter.
He was standing right in front of her with his arms crossed, staring at her fixedly. The first grey light of dawn was still very faint, but it was enough to show Alyth the deep frown on his face.
Laird MacAdams was a man who was slow to anger, so when she saw her father’s expression, she knew that he was absolutely furious.
Alyth could think of nothing to say, so she looked away from his accusing eyes, studying the ground by her feet intently.
“Alyth, where have you been?” her father asked accusingly.
“I-I went for a walk,” Alyth replied. “I had a bad dream and I thought it might be good to get out into the fresh air for a while.” The excuse sounded lame, even to her own ears, but it was all Alyth could come up with in a hurry.
In truth, she had been sneaking out to go to enemy lands, during the darkest part of September nights and returning just before dawn for weeks now.
“In the wee hours of the morning?” The Laird’s voice was incredulous. “Alyth, anything could have happened to you. You could have been kidnapped, or murdered! What is wrong with you?”
Alyth had no answer; she could not tell her father the truth, or he would be even more furious than he already was. After the death of her mother, he had become so protective that Alyth often felt smothered, and although she understood why, it did not make her feel better.
It was indeed a risky venture to trespass in the Carrick Clan, and it required subterfuge and planning, but it was the kind of activity that lent itself perfectly to her agile mind. Alyth was nothing if not determined; somehow she would bring down those who had taken her greatest treasure from her.
She stepped forward and hugged her father. “I’m sorry, Da,” she said, sighing. “Sometimes I feel so trapped in here.”
The Laird kissed the top of her head. “I know, darling,” he said gently. “But your safety is my greatest concern. I lost your mother, and I loved her more than life itself. I cannot lose you too.”
His face was anguished, and Alyth felt a powerful guilt well up in her. The last thing she ever wanted to do was cause him more pain.
The reason for her subterfuge was the bitter hatred between the Carricks and the allied MacAdams and Roberson Clans. In the course of the battle between them, Lady MacAdams, Alyth’s mother, had been murdered, and as part of their victory loot, the Carricks had stolen the only thing that Alyth had of her; a piece of jewellery that was so precious to her, she thought that she might go mad if she did not find it.
She remembered the pendant, a twin to the silver one she had always around her neck, as clearly as if she were holding it herself. It was gold, oval in shape, and contained a picture of her mother and Alyth inside. She had to retrieve it to remind her of the beloved woman who was no longer with her.
She burned with loathing for the Carricks. By hook or by crook, she was determined to get the pendant back, and that meant that she needed to find a way into Leithmuir Castle.
Alyth had not yet managed to make her way inside, but she hoped that she would soon be able to infiltrate it in the guise of a maid or some kind of other servant. She had to.
She hugged her father even more tightly and said, “Da, you have trained me to look after myself. Even the Captain of the Guard has told you how well I can handle myself.” She looked up at him and tried to lighten the mood a little. “He said he would accept me into the garrison if you’d let him.”
“I doubt he was serious,” the Laird replied with a faint smile. “But you are fairly capable for a woman, although, of course, you don’t have a man’s strength.” He stood before her, his hands gripping her upper arms. “Please, please don’t do anything foolish.”
Alyth felt wretched. Her gaze dropped to the floor again and she nodded slowly.
“There is something I have to tell you,” the Laird said softly. “I was going to wait till a little later, but now is as good a time as any. Come to my study.”
He linked arms with Alyth, and they made their way to the comfortable room where he worked, running the estate and caring for the welfare of those in the castle. Alyth had always loved this room, with its warm mahogany furniture, thick-piled carpet and the rows of books on their shelves. It smelled of leather, paper, woodsmoke and candles, all of which reminded her of her father, and combined to give her a feeling of comfort and safety.
She sat down on the couch in front of the blazing fire and held her hands out to warm them, realising for the first time that she was freezing.
The Laird ordered some warm mulled ale for both of them and walked over to look out of the window while he was waiting for it to arrive. He seemed edgy and nervous, and when the ale arrived it took him a long moment to turn away from the window.
