The Highlander’s Surrender Read online

  The Highlander’s Surrender

  Eliza Knight

  Contents

  About the Book

  More Books by Eliza Knight

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from The Highlander’s Temptation

  About the Author

  Copyright 2019 © Eliza Knight

  THE HIGHLANDER’S SURRENDER © 2019 Eliza Knight. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part or the whole of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted or utilized (other than for reading by the intended reader) in ANY form (now known or hereafter invented) without prior written permission by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and punishable by law.

  * * *

  THE HIGHLANDER’S SURRENDER is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and or are used fictitiously and solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Kim Killion @ The Killion Group, Inc.

  Edited by Erica Monroe

  Published by:

  About the Book

  Ceana Montgomery had notions of marrying for love after her first disastrous marriage ended in widowhood. But now Robert the Bruce has ordered her to marry a stranger, securing a strong alliance and ending a decades-old feud. Already used as a pawn once in marriage, she is devastated that she will once more have to give up her happiness in order to please the edicts of men. And while the braw warrior standing before her might incite feelings inside her she thought long since buried, desire is a far cry from love.

  * * *

  The rivalry between Brochan Lamont and his twin brother, John, began in the womb, and only grew worse from there. They were pitted against each other in childhood, and their father left them with a legacy that was a race to the finish—whoever has an heir first inherits the lands. The only problem is that Brochan has given his loyalty to the Scots, and his brother to the English. In order to keep the lands and ships under Scottish control, Robert the Bruce demands Brochan marry to break the iron-clad will. His new bride harbors a fiery temperament that lures Brochan into stoking her passions instead of her ire.

  * * *

  Aligned to strengthen the Scottish claims on the realm, Brochan and Ceana must work together to overcome the obstacles that bind them. But perhaps seeing their duties through does not have to be as painful as they both predicted. Is it possible that love can be forged from a union born in alliance? Maybe Fate knew all along just who was meant for who...

  More Books by Eliza Knight

  The Sutherland Legacy

  The Highlander’s Gift

  The Highlander’s Quest

  The Highlander’s Stolen Bride

  The Highlander’s Hellion

  The Highlander’s Secret Vow

  The Highlander’s Enchantment — Summer, 2019

  Pirates of Britannia: Devils of the Deep

  Savage of the Sea

  The Sea Devil

  A Pirate’s Bounty

  The Stolen Bride Series

  The Highlander’s Temptation

  The Highlander’s Reward

  The Highlander’s Conquest

  The Highlander’s Lady

  The Highlander’s Warrior Bride

  The Highlander’s Triumph

  The Highlander’s Sin

  Wild Highland Mistletoe (a Stolen Bride winter novella)

  The Highlander’s Charm (a Stolen Bride novella)

  A Kilted Christmas Wish – a contemporary Holiday spin-off

  The Highlander’s Surrender

  The Conquered Bride Series

  Conquered by the Highlander

  Seduced by the Laird

  Taken by the Highlander (a Conquered bride novella)

  Claimed by the Warrior

  Stolen by the Laird

  Protected by the Laird (a Conquered bride novella)

  Guarded by the Warrior

  The MacDougall Legacy Series

  Laird of Shadows

  Laird of Twilight

  Laird of Darkness

  The Thistles and Roses Series

  Promise of a Knight

  Eternally Bound

  Breath from the Sea

  The Highland Bound Series (Erotic time-travel)

  Behind the Plaid

  Bared to the Laird

  Dark Side of the Laird

  Highlander’s Touch

  Highlander Undone

  Highlander Unraveled

  Wicked Women

  Her Desperate Gamble

  Seducing the Sheriff

  Kiss Me, Cowboy

  Under the name E. Knight

  Tales From the Tudor Court

  My Lady Viper

  Prisoner of the Queen

  Ancient Historical Fiction

  A Day of Fire: a novel of Pompeii

  A Year of Ravens: a novel of Boudica’s Rebellion

  French Revolution

  Ribbons of Scarlet: a novel of the French Revolution

  1

  September 1298

  “I’m sorry, Sister, but I canna allow the marriage to take place. We must make peace. For the benefit of the country.”

  A stone hurtling down a mountain and landing right in the center of her chest could not have hurt more than hearing those words. Not marrying the man she loved…

  Lady Ceana Montgomery stared at her brother, Jamie, in horror at the words he’d just uttered. Unbelievable words. She pinched her arm just to make certain she wasn’t sleeping.

  She’d been summoned to her brother’s study after the morning meal, her breakfast now sat in her stomach like a lump of charred peat.

  She swallowed, working her throat, hoping that words would come out. No sound came. And swallowing felt as if she was ingesting a handful of rusty needles. Tears pricked her eyes. It had felt like a dream to be betrothed Gabriel MacKinnon after two years of torment with her first husband. The bastard had died in a knife fight nearly a year before, not even in battle, as fitting a death as he deserved for all the hate that had filled his soul.

  “Jamie…” she started to plead, but her voice hitched with her breath.

  Her brother hung his head. He leaned back against his desk, arms braced behind him as if he could barely hold himself up after giving her the news. The part of her that loved her brother knew this must pain him just as much, for he’d nearly lost the woman he loved a few short months ago.

  “Please,” she managed to say. “After what happened with Lorna, dinna let this happen to me.”

  Jamie was lucky that his wife’s brother, Magnus Sutherland, had come to his senses and brought her down from the Highlands to Glasgow to marry him. They’d been happily in love ever since. He, above anyone else, knew what it meant for love to be threatened.

  Finally, Jamie met her gaze, the corners of his eyes pinched with heartache, and that only made her chest burn all the more. For that one look said it all. This was truly happening and there was nothing to be done for it.

  Ceana’s knees buckled, and as she started to fall her brother shot off from his wide oak desk to catch her, but he didn’t make it in time. Her knees hit hard firs
t, and then her hands slapped against the wooden floorboards, catching herself before her face hit just as hard. To add insult to injury, a splinter stabbed into her finger and she cried out in both anguish and pain.

  “Och, Sister, my sweet.” Jamie knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  Her first marriage had been arranged when she was barely a woman, and shipped off to a man she wished never to think of again. When he’d died and she’d been sent home, she’d met Gabriel and she’d thought a miracle had been bestowed upon her. That happiness could be hers. That she would heal, from all the pain her previous husband had caused and all the sadness of having been ripped away from everything she loved and shoved into a hellish existence.

  And now she was being used as a pawn once more. Chattel meant as payment to bring peace to a war that seemed like it would never end.

  “I am not a vessel.” She shoved her brother’s hands away when he tried to help her rise. “I am a… person.”

  Jamie gazed at her with a pained expression, still not letting her go. “Aye, ye are. And ye deserve better than what ye’ve had to endure.”

  “Then say nay, brother.”

  Jamie looked gutted, but still he said, “I canna.”

  He didn’t understand. Couldn’t. For she’d not told him about the babies she’d lost in her first marriage. How she’d been pregnant for only a few months before her husband made certain she was not. Again and again.

  “I’d rather die,” she croaked out, “than marry anyone but Gabriel.” Not waiting for her brother’s reply, she made a hasty exit, rushing to be anywhere but here.

  Down the stairs she fled, tripping over her skirts and falling headlong into Gabriel’s strong arms. Oh, God. His scent surrounded her. His warm arms held her close.

  “Ye know,” he said.

  And then she broke down. The sobs came quick and hard, and he held her, his own shoulders sagging from having heard the news already.

  “Let’s run away,” she said, desperate.

  But the crushing expression on his face, his silent denial, was enough to make her lose her footing once more.

  He murmured words of comfort, and she wanted to take them, absorb them into her skin so that in the days, weeks, whenever it was she was to be whisked away, she could remember this moment and the feel of him. To gain some measure of comfort. To know that she had been treasured, and that true love had been so close to being hers. Within reach. Close enough that she could taste it.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, large, hot tears rolling down her face. Pinching her lips together, she willed herself to stop crying. Willed herself to pull a fraction of an inch away. Though she wanted to press her lips to his for one last goodbye kiss, to take that sensation with her forever, before the cold hands of her new husband laid upon her, she didn’t.

  Gabriel must have sensed her resignation, for he backed up another inch. And though she wanted to hold onto him, she let her hands fall to her side. Why? Why was this happening? What had she done to stir so much ire in the heavens that they would lead her not to love, but to torment?

  “I will always love ye, lass.” Gabriel’s voice was soft and choked. “I’ll no’ love another, I swear it.”

  That broke her heart even more, that both their lives should be ruined by this.

  Ceana shook her head, pressed her hands to her pounding temples, and then laid them over his heart. “Nay, please, I want ye to find love. Find what we had so that at least one of us can be happy.”

  He shook his head, started to speak, but she pressed her fingertip to his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned close.

  Footsteps sounded from behind, and then her brother was rounding the stairwell, his boot falls abruptly stopping when he spied them. The air was thick, and she wondered what her brother would do. Would he pour salt on her fresh wounds, or would he be a salve?

  Gabriel’s arms dropped away from her and back to his sides, and he backed up another step, taking all the warmth of his embrace with him. Her brother had robbed her of her last kiss, which she was certain her love was about to bestow on her.

  “When does my imprisonment start?” she asked bitterly.

  Jamie cleared his throat, the struggle on his face so blatant, it was a wonder he didn’t try to hide it. Her brother was a negotiator, a warrior, a liaison for Robert the Bruce, a member of his council. He was an expert at bearing a face that showed no hint of his feelings or reactions. And yet in this instance, he did not seem to think it necessary.

  “He is already here.”

  She felt her knees go wobbly again and gripped the wall for support. “And no more warning than this.”

  “I had none, else I would have given ye the news earlier,” Jaime said softly. “Please understand. This is no’ an order I can refuse. It comes from Robert the Bruce, our rightful king. Who am I to deny the king his will?”

  The logical side of her knew her brother was right. But her heart—her head—would never understand. Not ever.

  “Perhaps your happiness will be enough for the both of us,” she murmured angrily at her brother, and then retreated up the stairs, slipping past Jamie, who didn’t try to stop her.

  She couldn’t stand there a moment longer with the man she loved looking as broken as she felt on the inside.

  Laird Brochan Lamont stood uncomfortably in the great hall where he’d been asked to wait while Laird Montgomery spoke to his younger sister. On either side of him were Lamont guards who’d been with him since childhood. They stood quietly waiting with him, none of them wanting to speak, and mostly because they’d just heard the exchange that happened in the stairwell off the great hall.

  He gritted his teeth. When he’d arrived here, he’d assumed the chit would be grateful to be bonded in marriage with him. After all, he was a healthy, viral warrior, laird of his clan, and the rightful king’s own ship builder. He was honorable and well respected in Scotland.

  For certes, he won no points for who his brother was, but she’d never have to see the man. If all went well, the dispute that had spanned decades and threatened to divide the country would no longer be an issue, either.

  To top it off, he knew she’d been in a loveless marriage to a bastard, so she was lucky to be promised to him now. He wouldn’t require much more than a few heirs. He’d not beat her. If she wanted to, she could laze about in the castle.

  His frown deepened. With a few careless words, she’d had the power to make him wonder about himself. He didn’t even know what she bloody looked like, but already he knew she had a fiery temperament. And fiery was a much nicer way of putting it than what he really thought.

  Brochan straightened his shoulders.

  If he’d not been ordered here by Robert the Bruce, he’d have stalked out, completely offended. There were plenty of women who wanted to marry him. Plenty who would have been honored at the pleasure of having him as their husband. Birthed him bairns and rubbed his aching muscles at the end of the day.

  Laird Montgomery rounded the corner, stopping short just inside the arched entry.

  “Lamont,” he drawled.

  A shadow passed behind the laird, and for a fleeting moment, Brochan caught sight of the man who’d been betrothed to the chit. Fiercely angry, Gabriel Mackinnon was steeped in shadows, looking like he wanted to snap Brochan’s neck for having to break their betrothal.

  Brochan grinned. Challenge accepted; I’ll smash your arse to the ground. But Gabriel ducked beneath the door and was gone, evidently not interested in fighting for the termagant.

  “Where is my bride?” Brochan asked Montgomery. “I’ve no’ got all day.”

  Montgomery grimaced, and for a second Brochan thought he might have seen a hint of disgust on the man’s face. Bastard.

  “She will be down shortly,” Montgomery finally said.

  Brochan doubted it. From the sounds of things, he’d likely find her in a bloody, mangled heap outside her castle window.

  “The Bruce was strict with his
instructions,” Brochan continued. “She is to leave with me now.” There was an urgency to his tone that matched the hastily scrawled message from their soon-to-be king.

  “I understand, but ye must guide lassies with a gentle hand.” Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, a sure sign he didn’t mean to budge.

  Brochan narrowed his eyes. “I’m no’ here to coddle the lass. She’s been ordered to wed me and I’ve a need to get back to my castle afore my brother attacks.”

  “Why do ye no’ wed her and then let her stay behind if such danger is imminent?” Montgomery suggested.

  Brochan shook his head, staring over Montgomery’s shoulder at a shadow that passed in the corridor. Was it Mackinnon? The last thing he needed was a Highlander who fancied himself in love taking what was Brochan’s.

  “Nay,” Brochan said firmly.

  “Nay?”

  “Nay, Montgomery, and if ye’d like to battle it out, know that I am prepared. I come to ye with orders from your liege, and if ye dinna follow them, ye’ll be committing treason.”

  Montgomery’s face flamed red with anger. “I’ve a mind to draw swords and let the Bruce know just who was wronged here. Ye forget yourself. I am a member of the Bruce’s council.”