Ravished by a Vicious Scot (Preview)
Chapter One
Beauly Priory of St. Dwynwen, February 1692…
Lady Vivian Ashcombe knelt at her bedside with her palms pressed together.
“…and thank you, Lord for all the blessings you bestow upon me and all those who keep me safe every day.”
As she took another breath to continue her prayer, a light knock sounded on the door of her small room.
Vivian pulled herself up from her knees floor before bidding the visitor entry. The door opened and Mother Moira, the abbess of the nunnery, stepped inside.
“Hello, me child,” she said, her tone as soft as it had always been.
The abbess was an older woman, but then, she had been an older woman when Vivian had arrived at the priory at only ten years of age. Now, eleven years later, Mother Moira looked no different, as though once she had reached a certain age she could age no further. A strong-willed and quietly powerful woman with ties to Highland nobility, she was like a grandmother to Vivian.
“A missive has arrived fer ye,” she said, handing Vivian the letter she held in her hand.
“For me?” Vivian frowned.
Mother Moira lifted her eyebrows. “Indeed, I was surprised too.”
There was only one person who knew where she was hiding. In fact, it was he who had sent her away, for her safety. However, her father did not write very often, for fear that her location might be discovered.
“I will leave ye in peace tae read it,” the abbess said, turning and leaving the room as quietly as she had entered it.
Now alone and avidly curious, Vivian broke the wax seal and began to read.
Dear Vivian,
It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I write to you. What we feared the most has happened. Your father is no more.
Laird Sutherland attacked your father’s stronghold, and in the battle, the laird killed him.
“No!” Vivian cried, grasping the letter to her bosom.
The tears welled in her eyes, while, at the same time, panic took over her entire being. Desperately pushing the growing anxiety down, she had to keep reading.
As the oldest daughter, you inherit everything. But do not return here. It is too dangerous. Your father gave you a plan. Follow it to the letter. Be careful on your journey, and do not trust anyone.
Until we meet again, I remain your faithful servant.
Regards
James Buckley
A sob broke from her chest as she tried to fight back the tears. All these years she had longed for the day when her father would wrap his arms around her once more. The day when it would be safe enough for her to leave hiding and return home. Now, she would never lay eyes on her father again.
But glancing back at James Buckley’s words—he had been her father’s closest advisor and companion—she gave herself only a moment to deal with the shock before shaking herself. There was no time for grief. Not now. She had to leave, and she had to do so immediately.
Hurrying to her single closet, Vivian grabbed a cloth bag. Tossing it onto the bed, she began grabbing the few possessions she owned, throwing them in at a great pace. Laird Sutherland could be on his way to her that very minute. For both her and the nuns’ safety, she had to get as far away as she could in as little time as possible.
Hidden under the name Lady Vyne, Vivian had lived at Beauly Priory of St. Dwynwen for most of her life. Located west of Inverness, in the northern Highlands, nestled in fertile lands near the River Beauly, the priory had been secretly reestablished by noble Highland women after the 1560 Scottish Reformation. They had been supported by the Mackenzie clan, who continued to discreetly protect it to ensure no Crown authority would interfere.
But now, that protection would not be enough. Besides, if she stayed, all who resided there would be in grave danger. Laird Sutherland was a ruthless man who would did not care who he had to smite to get to her. There was no choice. She had to go, and it had to be now.
As items were tossed with little care into the cloth bag, Vivian began worrying about Aveline. While Vivian had been sent to the priory, her little sister had been too young, and thus, their father had sent her to stay with relatives. She currently lived in a manor in England, far from their family home. But even with that knowledge, Vivian wondered how resourceful Laird Sutherland could truly be.
What if he discovers where she’s being kept? What if he sends men to find her?
She shook her head then. She did not have the luxury of losing her wits. With her possessions packed, Vivian dropped to her knees, but not to say anymore prayers. Instead, she reached under the bed and pulled out a small bag that had been tucked away, hidden but to hand for this very purpose.
Pulling the strings of the bag open, she emptied its contents on the bed. Coins, a map, and a piece of parchment fell out onto the coverlet. Ignoring the other items, she picked up the parchment and unfolded it. It had been a long time since she had read what was written on it, but the words remained the same.
The instructions were clear; travel inland and south through Strathglass and Lochaber, and reach the coast. There, she was to meet a contact of her father’s old allies, a man who would help her get on a ship toward Berwick-upon-Tweed. Then head south toward the English border to find Aveline and secure her sister’s safety.
With her cloth bag over her shoulder, Vivian moved to the door. After opening it, she turned back, her eyes trawling over the room she had occupied for just over a decade.
“I will never return here,” she whispered absently.
She didn’t know how she knew. It was simply a feeling, but so intense, it had to be true.
Once Mother Moira found out what had happened, things moved quickly. A horse was arranged, and the abbess imparted words of wisdom, the final words the two would ever share.
“Dinnae delay, Vivian, and be careful. Ye will attract attention with yer petite frame and noble behavior. With that beautiful chestnut hair, and those wide hazel eyes, nae even the habit will protect ye. Ye must trust that the Lord will tak’ care o’ ye on yer journey.”
The women hurried to the courtyard, where they found Sister Aida waiting beside a fine mare.
“She is the best we have,” the sister said with a sad smile. “But it is ye we will miss the most.”
Tears were welling in her eyes as she spoke. It took all the strength Vivian could muster not to burst into sobs right there and then. But she had to be strong. For her father and for Aveline.
With a final embrace from Mother Moira and Sister Aida, Vivian mounted the beast.
Looking down at the woman who had loved her as though she were her own, she said, “Thank you for everything. I will never forget you.”
The abbess smiled with her usual fortitude. “Nor I ye, me child. Now, go.”
Hours passed as she rode on and on, hoping with all her might that she was heading in the right direction. On occasion, she would stop and rest both herself and the horse. For a certainty, the beast was far more accustomed to the taxing journey than Vivian. This was the first time she had navigated the world on her own, and though she knew she had to do it, she was also aware of how ill-equipped she was. The priory had protected her, kept her safe. Now she had to brave a world she had never experienced.
At times, her mind wandered. She wondered if her father had suffered when he had died. Whether he had been frightened or in agony. Whether he had been alone, or with Laird Sutherland.
Then she would think of Aveline. Would her sister know? Would James Buckley have sent her a letter too? Would it have reached her yet?
The sun lowered in the sky and dusk settled around her, yet she continued on, hoping to reach the next village. But as she ventured forth, the sky only darkened more without a place to stay in sight.
“I cannot stay out here all night. Surely, I will freeze to death.”
Even as she lamented, she heard voices up ahead. Many voices, as though there was a group gathered. Hope rose in her for a fleeting second, but then it left her just as quickly. As she made her way forward, it was not a village that opened up in front of her, but a small inn at the side of the road. The kind of place Mother Moira had told her to avoid.
What choice do I have? It is nearly dark, and besides, I need to eat and sleep.
With trepidation, Vivian brought her horse to a steady stop outside the inn and warily dismounted.
A young lad appeared from nowhere. “I’ll take her fer ye. We have a small stable at the back.”
“Thank you,” Vivian replied.
The boy’s eyes narrowed at the sound of her voice, for as long as she had lived in the priory, she had maintained the accent of the English.
“Here,” she said, worried he was about to recant his offer. She handed him a coin she lifted from her pocket and placed it in his palm. “I’d be very grateful if you took good care of her.”
The coin seemed to appease him, and the smile returned to his face. “O’ course, Miss.” He then led the mare away, leaving Vivian standing there, her heart thumping in her chest at the thought of venturing inside the loud building.
Taking a deep breath in, she tried to steel herself and bolster her courage.
Move, Vivian. Just put one foot in front of the other and move.
Upon opening the door, the sound of the muted conversation got louder. Her eyes scoured the room, moving from one person to the other. She quickly noted that apart from two other women, a cackling hag and an older woman who seemed lost in her own little world, the inn was full of men.
The last time she had been near any man was when she was still a child. But even those she remembered looked nothing like the ones that filled the seats and spaces surrounding her. Large, gruff, and loud, speaking words she could hardly understand, the men laughed or argued while they tossed back their ale like it was water.
Holding her cloth bag tightly too her, Vivian cautiously made her way towards the bar where the innkeeper and the woman beside him busily attempted to keep his patrons satisfied. She slipped in behind a broad-backed man, catching the attention of the woman, who’s eyebrows hitched at the sight of her.
“Are ye lost?” she asked brashly. “We dinnae get the likes o’ ye in a place like this.”
Vivian shook her head. “No. I’m not lost,” she replied in her soft tone. “I need a place to sleep, and I could do with a meal.”
The conversations around her quieted, until not a word was spoken. When the maid looked passed her, Vivian turned to see every eye in the inn looking at her. No one spoke for a long second, and she could feel the fear rising in her gut. She did not belong there, that much was obvious. Her refined appearance, soft speech and evident unfamiliarity with the place had clearly drawn attention to her. Attention that she neither needed or wanted, for Laird Sutherland and his men were surely looking for her.
Perhaps I will never make it to the coast, never mind to Aveline.
But a few seconds later, the discussions began again, the voices growing louder and louder, until the previous volume of banter, laughter and raucous was reached.
“Here’s a key,” the maid said, handing her a long key with a wooden fob attached by a piece of string. On the wooden fob was a number.
As Vivian frowned at it, the maid looked at her like she might be mad. “That’s the number o’ yer room.”
“Of course,” Vivian said, a light nervous laughter falling from her lips.
Giving her yet another strange look, the maid nodded to a table against the far wall. “Sit yersel’ down. I’ll bring ye a plate o’ stew and some bread.”
“Thank you,” Vivian replied, immediately turning and making her way across the room.
Side-ways glances were thrown in her direction as she seated herself, but the conversation continued to flow all the same. With her cloak wrapped closely around her, she kept a tight grip on her cloth bag. This definitely looked like the kind of place one might try and relieve her of it.
It was just as her food arrived that Vivian noticed two men sat across the room, both glancing at her intermittently. Neither wore clan colors, but their interest put her immediately on edge. Most of the others had lost interest by now. To them, she was just another stranger. Clearly, not one of them, but harmless all the same.
These men, however, now presented with the opposite. Their interest in her had built in the short time she had been sat there, trying to mind her own business and blend in. Though the latter was evidently never going to happen.
Though neither of them moved, Vivian sensed that there was something threatening about them, as though they were likely to bring her danger.
Perhaps they are Laird Sutherland’s men? Could he really have found me so quickly?
Why not? The man was as resourceful as he was vicious. No doubt he had men all over the Highlands. Besides, if he had killed her father, he would have also planned to find her. He wanted her father’s lands after all, and he could not take them if the heir still lived.
“There ye go,” the lass said, leaving the stew and bread on the table before walking away. But as she left, the larger of the two men meandered over to her table.
“May I sit?” he asked, his tone falsely polite and not suiting his gruff appearance at all.
Even as her heart was thumping in her chest at his proximity, Vivian steeled herself.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” she replied, tersely enough to let him know he wasn’t welcome.
“Why?” His upper lip curled as he snarled down at her. “Too good for me, are ye? Let me tell ye, Missy. I’ve had better than ye.”
Her mouth fell open at his words, but despite her fear, she was not about to let him get away with his disgusting suggestion.
“I doubt that. In fact, I’d be surprised any woman would let you anywhere near her with your horrendous breath and body odor.”
The mask of politeness shed from him completely then, and with a heavy thud, his hands went down on the table. He leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. For a long second, he only looked at her, his lips still curled, regarding her like she was something he had wiped off his shoe.
But then, he said, “Laird Sutherland was right about ye.”
And in that second, Vivian sucked in a breath. Her instinct had been right. The men were working for Laird Sutherland. She couldn’t be sure how they had found her, but it made sense that someone had seen her. Perhaps the laird had men in Inverness, and had sent word from there.
What did it matter now? She had been found out, and her earlier thought returned once more.
I will never make it to the coast.
Not a moment later, the man’s companion crossed the room, and without any hesitation, they grabbed her, one at either side.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked. Thrashing about and trying to fend them off, she continued. “Let me go. Let me go at once!”
Already, they had pulled her to her feet, but Vivian was not going to go quietly. She kicked out at them, catching one in the leg. He hissed at the pain, but only gripped her arm harder, making her whelp.
Even as she continued to scream and fight, no one in the inn stepped in to help. Some turned away, pretending it wasn’t happening. Some continued to watch, but didn’t move an inch, and just continued sipping their ale as though a woman being dragged out against her will was something that happened every day.
Maybe it did. But not to Vivian.
Now outside, she was terrified. The men were far too big to fight against, and all she could feel was fear coursing through her body. Still, she screamed as though somehow, that might help her, even though it had had no effect so far. Manhandling her and not caring if they hurt her, they dragged her toward a horse, one of theirs, she could only assume.
This is it. I am to be taken and no one will ever hear from me again.
But just as they reached the beast, a voice came from the shadows.
“Let her go.”
Chapter Two
Vivian gasped at the voice, for it was calm, but commanding. Cold and calculated. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one taken back at the crisp, firm and yet, completely emotionless demand, for the two men stopped in their tracks. Loosening their grip on her, they turned to see who was speaking.
A man then stepped away from the wall of the inn.
“I said, let her go,” he repeated, his tone not changed.
A tone that did something to the men, for both of them continued to hesitate with the depth of authority. Vivian could understand why. His voice was measured, sharp, dangerous. It made her stomach twist and cause the strangest sensation. A sensation she had never before experienced.
That came as no surprise given the fact that she had spent little to no time in her life around the opposite sex. But even acknowledging that, her gut told her that her reaction was different, that it meant something more.
The men seemed to shake themselves from their shock. The larger of the two reacted first, but even his words did not hold the conviction he intended.
“This isnae any o’ yer damned business. Go back inside ‘afore ye get hurt.”
“No. Please!” Vivian cried.
This might be the only chance she got to escape, and she certainly wasn’t going to shirk the opportunity.
“Shut it,” the big man yelled.
A second later, Vivian felt a heavy strike across her face, the pain of which utterly stunned her. A strange coppery taste seeped into her mouth. She dragged her tongue across her lip, feeling the broken skin that now bled. The shock was brief, quickly replaced by fear and then fury.
She was about to fight back when her savior suddenly arrived beside the three of them. She was stunned by the way he moved, for like his tone, he was calculated, precise, brutal. Not an ounce of hesitation or fear was present, even though he was outnumbered. He was tall and broad and powerful with rugged features. His dark hair was cut short to his head. The white lines on his face a testament of the many battles he had fought before. He was the most interesting human being Vivian had seen in her whole life.
Standing there waiting for the men to acquiesce, he held a frightening efficiency that took Vivian’s breath away. In fact, that twisting sensation she had just felt only seemed to expand and grow in her stomach.
“We have tae tak’ her,” the smaller of the two said. “Our own lives depend on it. Ye dinnae ken anything about her. She needs tae come with us, and we need tae move now.”
Vivian waited for the powerful man to reply, but he said nothing. Instead, she watched the swift movement of his arm, so fast, it was like lightening. There seemed to be a second’s pause, and then the smaller man’s legs crumpled. His body fell with a heavy thud on the ground, and Vivian screamed at the sight of the blood seeping out of his throat.
She felt the larger one release his grip on her arm as he stepped forward, his arms raised and ready to fight.
“Ye’re going tae pay fer that,” he spat.
Only then, did Vivian see the quick flash of metal. Her attacker had swiftly grabbed a knife from somewhere, and now lunged at the man who had appeared from the shadows.
But her attacker was not fast enough, the other swiftly dodging his aggressive swipes. Instead, he batted his arm away, before swinging his fist and striking the man hard across the jaw.
He stumbled backwards a few steps, but righted himself. Shaking the strike off, he launched forward again. This time, the other man brought his own blade down, slicing through the man’s clothing. A spurt of blood sprayed from flesh beneath.
“Argh,” he cried, holding onto the wound.
“Ye can run, or ye can die like yer friend,” the man said, nodding to the man lying on the floor just a few feet away.
Still holding his wound, her attacker hesitated for the briefest of seconds. He looked at the man who had struck him, then at his dead companion on the ground. Without another word, he turned on his heels and fled into the darkness.
And then, she was left standing beside the man who had just slain her captor without a second thought or hesitation. Only then, did she start to tremble a little. Thanks to the stranger, she had escaped a terrible fate, the shock of which only hit her at that moment.
The two of them stood there as the air went quiet. Now all she could hear was the thud of her rapid heartbeat, and the soft breathing of the horse that remained standing beside her.
He approached her, slowly, carefully, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any second. There was no softness in his expression, only cool control. She could not help but wonder, even in her traumatic state, whether this man did anything in his life in any other manner. He had appeared from nowhere and had fought to save her. A stranger who knew nothing about her. A tall, dark, handsome stranger. Still, she did not fully know his intentions. Could she be in a worse circumstance than before?
Vivian found herself taking a step back as he grew closer.
“I’m nae going tae hurt ye,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Let me tak’ a look at that lip.”
She was still shaking, but she nodded. True to her character, and even through her fear, she wanted to make certain this man knew she wasn’t a pushover, even though he had just saved her from a dreadful fate.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You better not do something that you’re going to regret.”
His eyebrows hitched in surprise, and then, his mouth twisted. He gave her a crooked smile, something unreadable behind his eyes. Half amused, half something darker.
“Ye’re a Sassenach,” he stated. His smile fell then. “Dae ye ken how dangerous it is fer a lass like ye tae be out here alone in the Highlands?”
Vivian opened her mouth to reply, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“Ye’re a reckless woman, putting yersel’ in such danger.”
Agitation rose up in her at his words, and unwilling to let it pass, she said, “You know nothing about me, and yet, you have made a hundred conclusions as to the type of person I am. How very presumptuous of you.”
In her agitation, she turned away a little. The man’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of her garment beneath.
“Ye are a nun?” he gawked in bewilderment.
Vivian shook her head. “No, I am not a nun. I have lived with the nuns though. In fact, I’ve spent most of my life with them.”
Again, his eyes were unreadable as they grazed across her face. With the same careful wariness of earlier, he lifted his hand to her chin and softly pulled her face toward him, his eyes peering at her swollen lip.
“Stay here,” he growled.
Vivian did as she was bid, but the man did not go far. His horse was situated only a few feet away. She watched as he dug around inside his saddle bag, and then he turned back towards her with a small item in his hand. Upon reaching her, Vivian noted it was a small tin, the kind of container one might find snuff or powder in. He twisted the top off it to reveal some kind of creamy, pale balm.
“Stay still,” he ordered once more.
Scooping his finger into the balm, he then applied it to her swollen lip. Vivian hissed, and he pulled his hand away looking genuinely sorry. But then, he reached for her again and finished off applying what little balm was left on his finger.
As cold and calculated as this man had been so far, his touch was as gentle as a child’s. His finger dragged over the softness of her lip, sending a strange tingle down her spine. It was a feeling she had never before experienced, yet it was not unpleasant. In fact, she felt a strange guilt rise in her, for surely, she ought not to be affected by his touch so easily. He was so close to her now, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he towered over her. It was the first time she had ever been so close to a man. Especially one so large, and unreadable.
Only then did she notice blood on his tunic; it was still fresh from killing the man who now lay at their feet. But he didn’t seem to care. About the blood, or the man, or anything else for that matter. His focus was entirely upon her.
The air between them felt charged, as though sparks could crackle at any second. His finger rubbing across her lip sent a thrill through her entire body, and she felt goosebumps on her arms and a tingle down her spine. And yet, her reaction made little sense. She did not know this man. Nor did his poker face give her any inclination or hope of finding out.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a thundering sound stopped him. Instead, he cocked his ear to listen more intently.
“We need tae go,” he said gruffly.
“What do you mean?” Vivian cried. “No. I need to stay. I have far to travel and I need—”
He turned and stared into her eyes. “He’s coming back.”
“Who?” Vivian cried.
“The man who escaped. And by the sound of it, he’s bringing reinforcements.”
She looked out into the darkness, as though she might see them, but then, she felt his hand on her arm. Spinning around, her heart thumped in her chest.
“What are you doing?”
“I told ye. We have tae go, and it has tae be now.”
Not giving her a minute to think, he pulled her along with him, while Vivian struggled to know what to do. Indeed, she could not stay there. If that dreadful man was coming back, she certainly didn’t want to be waiting for him, but at the same token, she had no idea who the man who had saved her was. She was still struggling with her dilemma when they suddenly came to a halt. Without a word, he took hold of her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto his horse.
“Wait,” she cried.
“There’s nay time,” he replied gruffly. “We need tae go.”
Fear mixed with the excitement of the moment. From having nothing to do with men, to suddenly being surrounded by them, she hardly knew what to think or feel. It was as though she had leapt from the frying pan into the fire, for now there was another man trying to take her against her will. He might well have saved her but she still did not know what his intentions were.
“I don’t even know who you are, I will not just leave with you.”
Ignoring her, he mounted the horse and pulled himself in close behind her.
“It’s dangerous fer ye, and I cannae leave ye alone. Ye’re coming with me,” he declared. “Ye belong with me now until I say otherwise.”
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