*******NOTE****** I just wanted to let you all know that I am an AMATEUR writer, I am no historian at all, just a woman who loves romance, especially Scottish romance. All the knowledge that I have comes from books that I have read in the past. So I know that my story may not be historically accurate. I also do my own editing, so don't expect my story to be perfect. ************
Scottish Beauty
Chapter One
Scottish Highlands, 1408
The thundering of hooves could be felt throughout the lush Scottish valley as a score of men, laden with provisions, returned from their early morning raid. Sir Andrew McKenna led his men. He is Laird Angus McKenna’s oldest son and heir. His skill and cunning strategies launched the successful raid against their archenemies, Clan Fraser. Within the men were two of Andrew’s brothers, Ian and Robert. Only Grant, a knight within King James’ court, youngest son and alleged skirt chaser, wasn’t present.
Andrew rode proudly in front of his men, a grin stretched across his sun-bronzed face. His black hair was blowing in the wind, caressing the tops of his shoulders. His eyes, dark as midnight, sparkled with arrogance. The raid was very successful. They managed to regain all of the feed, flour and oats that Clan Fraser had pilfered from them just four nights past.
Early autumn already graced the Highlands which signalled the onset of a potentially harsh winter when food could be short in supply. The future laird, knowing of his responsibilities to provide for those within the keep and the villagers, had organized the attack for that purpose. Not to mention that the men always enjoyed a good skirmish.
Robert, third son, rode up beside his brother.
“I suppose Da will be happy we retrieved all of our feed and supplies back from the bloody Frasers,” Robert began as his brown eyes squinted from the bright early morning sun.
“Aye, he will, but he’ll not be happy with the raid. You know Da, he doesn’t like retaliation. He wants peace in the Highlands,” replied Andrew looking across the purple-heather valley and experiencing little remorse for his actions.
“Aye, that he does but doesn’t mean we have to give up what is ours,” Robert agreed. “Many work and rightly rely on Castle McKenna to provide for their families. ‘Twas our duty to retaliate.”
“Da will surely be awake when we return, we better prepare ourselves for a tongue lashing,” Andrew answered, and then flashed a grin, showing straight white teeth.
“There’ll be no tongue lashing for Ian and me,” Robert corrected him, and then chuckled. “Ye are his first born, 'twill be your bollocks Da will be after.”
“I believe ye are right Robbie, but once I explain to Da the need to protect what is ours, I’m sure that he will come around,” Andrew replied.
Despite the awaiting confrontation, the future laird expected to be greeted with relieved faces and gratitude from his people and pushed his horse to a hard gallop. All the others followed close behind as the valley passed them by. Down into the meadow, there was a stream where they could rest for a few moments, stretch their weary legs and give the horses a much needed drink before reaching home.
Andrew, being the first to dismount, kneeled along the stream’s edge and cupped water in the palms of his hands. He took a long drink before cupping more water and washing away all the dust and sweat from his face.
Ian, his brown hair gleaming in the sun, fell beside him and did the same. “How long will we rest for Andrew?” Ian asked him. “I’m tired, hungry and cannot wait to return home.”
“Ye were always the whiniest of the four of us Ian. We’ll be home in about an hour,” Andrew answered, an annoyed look upon his face. “I swear ye should have been born a lass for all the interest you have in raiding and sparring.”
“I can handle myself in a fight, I stayed with ye this morn,” Ian answered, standing up for himself. He was tired of always having the same conversation with his brothers. He just wasn’t a fighter as they were.
“That may be, but why is it ye make yourself scarce whenever we spar?” Andrew asked him.
As they bickered, Andrew’s sharp eye spied a crumpled plaid beyond Ian’s position at the brook. The colours, uncommon to a Highlander’s, reminded him of hues worn by Lowlanders.
But what would a Lowlander’s plaid being doing here in the Highlands?
Ian started to reply, but noticed the hard look on his brother’s face and turned to see what had caught his eye.
“Tis a plaid Andrew, a Lowlander plaid,” he offered.
“Aye, that’s what I see. I better go have a closer look,” Andrew suggested, aware that there might be danger lurking. “Ian, are ye coming?”
Stepping through the stream, not caring that their boots were getting soaked, the brother’s reached the plaid. It was torn in several places and there were long strands of red hair clumped in one corner of the plaid. Ian swiped it with his big hand and presented it to Andrew.
“Tis a lassie’s hair Andrew,” Ian observed. “What’s a woman doing out here?” he questioned, holding up some of the strands as he admired them.
“I’m not sure Ian, but we best have a look around,” Andrew replied.
Skilled hunters they both were, each took a separate direction in search of the woman. The lush foliage in their surroundings could easily hide her. But shortly, Andrew spotted a body partially covered by some bushes.
“Jesu!” Andrew whispered as he reached the poor lass. Kneeling beside her, he felt for a pulse. There was one, but it was weak. Standing and shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked for his brother Ian before checking for any injuries.
“Ian!” shouted Andrew, “find Robert and tell him to bring me my spare plaid from my saddle bags. Hurry, I found the lass.”
Anger rose within him as he bent down next to the woman, he couldn’t understand who could have done something like this to her. Her thick, wavy red hair fanned the mossy earth that she lay upon, matched the hair that was on tartan he held in his hand. He noticed her gown was of quality, she was not a peasant.
Looking at her lifeless form, at that moment, Andrew felt serious protectiveness over the girl.
Coming to a halt next to him, his brother Ian let out a low whistle, “Andrew, what happened to the lass?” Ian asked.
“Is Robert coming with the plaid?” Andrew asked Ian, not ever taking his eyes off of the girl and not bothering to answer his brother’s question.
“Aye,” was all that Ian replied with. He too was in shock with what he was seeing in front of his eyes.
Robert materialized with the tartan and witnessed the more obvious injuries when spreading the plaid beside her. “Andrew, we got to help her,” Robert said with a shaky voice.
The brothers had seen many battles, killed many men in defence, killed many animals to survive, but never had any one of them been so shaken up with the sight before them. Her gown was torn her breasts were still covered, but barely. They could already see bruising on the upper swelling of them. Her lip bloody and split open, swelling and purple marring was forming on the right side of her mouth. She had been cut down her chest with the blade that sliced open her gown. Blood was soaking the front of her gown.
Robert spoke ever so softly, “Do ye think she was raped?”
“Aye, she was,” Andrew replied grimly.
“How do ye know?” asked Ian.
Pointing to the smeared blood on the insides of her thighs, Andrew showed his brothers her virgin’s blood. There was more bruising on her legs and arms, most likely from the struggle that had she put up to fight off her offender.
“What are ye going to do Andrew?” Ian asked him, relinquishing responsibility to his eldest brother.
“We cannot leave her here Ian we must take her back to Castle McKenna. Da will know what to do,” Andrew replied while he was slowly placing her onto the tartan and then wrapped it around her. He bent down to pick her up, one arm underneath her knees, the other beneath her shoulder blades. As he stood up, he cradled her to his chest to protect her injury.
Robert noticed the large stone first, it was where her head was resting, it was covered in her blood. “Andrew, have care with the lass’s head,” Robert advised as he pointed to the stone on the ground.
Ian bent down to pick it up, it was jagged on all sides....”Jesu” Ian whispered, “Do ye think she was hit with this?”
“I’m nae sure Ian,” Robert replied as Andrew stepped around them.
“Ian, bring the stone and her plaid. We need to get her back to Castle McKenna,” Andrew called back without slowing his pace. “Margo will be able to tend to her, whilst we sort this out.”
Andrew headed towards his stallion and the waiting McKenna men. When he reached his horse, he reluctantly handed the lass over to Robert to hold until he mounted.
“Wouldn’t she be better if I made room for her in the cart?” Robert asked him.
“Nae, the lass stays with me,” Andrew declared and reached for her. “She doesn’t weigh more than a feather and the cart will jostle her around. As much as I would like to ride hard back home, we need to go slow for the lass.”
While Ian and Robert located and mounted their horses, Andrew adjusted the plaid so that she was completely covered. The tattered gown provided little modesty to a lady of her apparent station. He cradled her head against his chest, planted a soft kiss on her forehead before his brothers joined him.
As he rode away, Andrew pondered his reaction to the girl. He didn’t want anyone near or touching her in any way. It almost killed him to hand her over to Robert just for the few moments until he mounted his horse. He didn’t know who she was, he didn’t even know her name, but he made a solemn vow to protect her. And when he found the bastard that did this to her, he would kill him with his bare hands.
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