CHAPTER1
Magnus Mackenzie breathed a sigh of relief as Castle Dunbeath came into view. His second home during the years he fostered with Clan Sinclair, seeing the brick structure on the cliffside felt like slipping on his favorite leine. Three years had passed since he last visited, but it felt like a lifetime. He was eager to see his half-sister, Siùsan, and to visit with the rest of the extended family.
As his gaze swept the surrounding land, a head with white-blonde hair popped out of a heather patch. The hue and waves made him assume it was Brighde, his half-sister’s sister-by-marriage. But as he drew closer to the woman picking flowers, he realized it was Saoirse, Brighde and Alexander’s daughter. The last time he’d seen her, she was emerging as a young woman, still a bit more gangly than curvy. But the lady who stood before him was breathtaking.
“Magnus?”
Her melodic voice carried on the sea breeze, sending a heated shiver along his spine. She shielded her brown eyes and waved as she recognized him. She said something to her guard, who stood ten feet from her. She lifted her skirts and made her way back to the path. She waited for him with a basket over her bent arm.
“Lady Saoirse, hello.”
“We’ve been expecting ye, but nae until this evening.”
“I was impatient to arrive. I’m certain ma men wished I’d developed that virtue.”
Magnus glanced back at the three Mackenzie warriors who rode with him and would remain during his visit. The journey forced Magnus to travel across Clan Gunn territory. His family’s complicated history with that clan, paired with the ongoing strife between the Sinclairs and them, necessitated him traveling with guards.
Saoirse’s tinkling laughter made Magnus want to shift in his saddle. It was doing things to him that hadn’t happened since he was a green lad. It had been years since a woman’s laughter aroused him so instantaneously.
Control yerself, mon. She’s nae more than a lass. A lass ye used to watch over when ye took her and the other weans fishing and swimming. Aye, but she didna look like that. Ye’re closer to her da’s age than hers, even if ye’re more than a decade younger than him.
“What’re ye doing outside the gates, ma lady?”
“Ma lady? I’m Saoirse to ye, Magnus.”
Something in her tone pricked at Magnus. Was she insulted by his formality? No. She looked hurt. That made his mind spin as he wondered why it affected her so.
“What’re ye doing outside the gates, Saoirse?”
When she beamed at him, the heavens opened, and a choir of angels danced upon his shoulders. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever spied. It was clear she much preferred him using her given name.
“Gathering flowers for ma medicinals.”
Magnus’s brow furrowed. She looked healthy.
“Yer medicinals? Do ye ail?”
Her tinkling laughter once again made him want to shift in his saddle. The weight of his sporran against his arousal was uncomfortable, but it was all that kept the world from seeing his reaction to the young woman.
“Nay. I’m the clan’s healer.” Her smile faded as she looked past Magnus and his men, as though she could see something in the distance that no one else could. “Aileen passed last year from an ague that swept the clan. She exhausted herself tending to those who needed us, and in the end, she hadn’t the strength to fight the illness. Since then, I’ve been the one tending to those who are poorly or injured.”
Magnus recalled Saoirse had always been interested in the healing arts and apprenticed with Aileen. But he hadn’t imagined she would take on that role. As Laird Liam Sinclair’s granddaughter, he supposed he’d assumed she would marry and leave Dunbeath. As he watched her walk to his horse’s head and pat the beast’s neck, he realized how grateful he was that she was still here.
He swung down from his horse and drew the reins over his steed’s head. When he stood next to Saoirse, he reached out his free hand.
“May I carry that for ye?”
“It’s nae heavy, but thank ye.”
He watched her cheeks pinken as she passed the basket to him. Freckles from being outside smattered her fair skin. He studied them, finding patterns. When they moved along the path toward the village and keep, it dawned on Magnus that he’d assumed she was through with her task.
“Saoirse, would ye allow me to accompany ye if ye arenae done?”
“Ye dinna need to ask, Magnus. I ken ye havenae been here in three years, but yer formality feels—odd.”
Her cheeks darkened further as she looked toward the castle’s barmekin. He knew she regretted being so forward, but three years ago, there wouldn’t have been a hesitation on his part. He’d been a man by then, but she’d still seemed more like a child than someone who needed a chaperone with him.
Magnus turned back to his men and gave them instructions to tend to his horse and present themselves to Alexander, Saoirse’s father and captain of the clan’s guard. Callum, Alex’s older brother and the oldest of his generation, was the clan’s tánaiste and Laird Liam Sinclair’s heir. Callum was also Magnus’s brother-by-marriage. He figured Callum was likely meeting with Liam since it was mid-afternoon. Magnus nodded to Saoirse’s guard as they made their way back into the heather field. As the prickly flowers jabbed at the bare section of skin above the top of his boots and below the hem of his plaid, he reconsidered the wisdom of his offer. But he couldn’t stop himself from asking to join her.
