Cameron

By Lane McFarland

Determined to band Scots together against English tyranny, Laird Robert Graham seals a truce with his feuding neighbor, the MacDougalls. But after his brother is nearly killed in a treacherous attack, Graham kidnaps the laird’s daughter in an act of revenge.
Cameron MacDougall has devoted her life to the healing arts. She’s long rebelled against her father’s feuding ways, but when Robert Graham abducts her, she’s finds herself at the center of the dispute between their families. She expects the anger she feels, not the simmering attraction to the powerful warrior, or the love she develops for his clan.
Can she stop further violence between the clans with her escape? Or will she find her surrender leads to a lasting peace and her own heart’s desire?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lane McFarland
• Release date: Oct 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311096456

Lane McFarland

Starting out as an accountant in line with the rest of the corporate echelons struggling up the proverbial ladder, I soon realized the long nights and numerous weekends of closing books and reporting financial results no longer appealed. So, I decided to hit the road selling financial software. Jumping from one high-pressured frying pan into the other, the stress of the road-warrior life and constant deadlines took its toll. I needed a release and found that with my face buried in historical romance books, I could escape to worlds of intrigue with timeless love and happily-ever-after-endings. Today, I am fortunate to have found my true passion in writing of spirited heroines and to-die-for-heros and the romantic love stories between them. I am a southern girl living on top of a mountain in North Georgia, and I’m most happy when surrounded by family and friends. If I am not writing, you can find me hiking with my husband, or fiddling around in my flower and vegetable gardens, feeding the birds and watching black bears and deer. I am blessed to have a wonderful son—my pride and joy, my buddy who, along with my husband, have made my life complete. I am a proud member of Hearts Through History Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers.

Book preview

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my husband, Ken, and

my son, Kenneth. Thank you for your love, patience and

constant encouragement to reach for my dream!

A special thanks goes to Tessy, who was the first to read

my chapters and one of my final beta readers.

Without her gracious support and gentle coaching, I would

not be writing today. Thank you for believing in me, Tessy!

And many thanks to my dear friend, Ann, my final beta

reader who has encouraged me my entire life, and has

always been there for me.

I’d also like to thank Lexi (my editor),

Shirley, Sylvia and Sandra (my dear beta readers),

and my critique partners in Hearts Through History

and Celtic Hearts for their wonderful suggestions,

comments and tremendous support.

Chapter One

MacDougall Castle

Kilmarnock, Scotland

May 1297

Cameron MacDougall scrambled up the steep hill, her brown basket clutched in one hand and her woolen skirt bunched in the other. Heart skipping fast, she crested the summit and caught her breath. Her gaze swept the flat landscape carpeted with green grass and hundreds of budding yellow wildflowers. A brisk breeze whipped her hair across her face. She pulled the dark strands from her mouth and tugged her grey cloak tighter against the chill.

She made her way across the grassy mound to her mother’s resting place under the shade of a large blackthorn tree, its branches filled with white spring blossoms. Trees swayed in the wind, and petals skittered across the ground.

Cameron set her basket down and knelt. Her knees grew cold and wet from the damp ground as she brushed leaves off the gravesite. Images of Mum’s sickly face flashed through her mind. Deep purple bruises, symptoms of disease, marred her translucent skin, and dark shadows surrounded her once vibrant blue eyes. Dull and lifeless, the orbs sunk into her pale face, the sharp ridges of her cheekbones prominent. Her once crowning glory of thick blonde hair lay in thin grey strands against her scalp, and the stench of death hung heavy around her shriveled frame.

A sharp pain sliced through Cameron’s heart.

She had not been able to cure her mother’s wasting sickness. Although it had been many months since Mum’s passing, Cameron would never forgive herself for her inexperience as a healer. She ran her hand over the small iron cross the blacksmith made in Mum’s honor—the cold hard surface uncharacteristic of her mother’s warmth.

How she missed Mum, her encouragement and unselfish love. Even in her darkest hours, Mum implored Cameron to continue her quest to learn the healing arts. Follow yer dream. Never give up, my daughter.

Cameron spent fruitless hours combing through manuscripts, desperately searching for a cure. But each potion she tried was quickly discarded after either having no affect at all, or sending her mother into bouts of vomiting, further weakening her frail state.

Tears slid down Cameron’s cheeks, but she rubbed the moisture away. Mum would be disappointed to see her immersed in self-pity. Her mother had longed for strong, independent daughters.

Promises made to Mum in recompense of Da’s indiscretions granted her four daughters the rare privilege to live as their hearts desired. The spirited, yet gentle woman ensured each daughter was educated in reading, writing and even performing basic calculations. Cameron’s heart tugged. Because of Mum, each daughter lived the life of her choice.

Cameron snipped a bunch of the wilted yellow blooms from her visit yesterday, plucked the dead ones from the container and replaced them with fresh clippings.

I’m worried about Fergus’s arm, Mum. What a shame he may lose it over the Grahams stealing Da’s bull. Why did they have to fight over that beast? She sighed. Nay, the bull is not the problem. They fight over anything and everything. I’ve begged Da to end this feud. Perhaps with Fergus’s severe injury, he’ll change his mind.

She tilted her face to the sun. Puffy white clouds drifted across the blue sky. Well, I promised Muire I’d be back by mid-morning, and I still need to gather more elder for Fergus. She rubbed the cold ground over her mum. I’ll visit ye again tomorrow.

She straightened, picked up her basket and headed back down the hill. She grinned at the ridiculous sight of the chestnut horse waiting with a long wooden ladder strapped to his back. He nickered and tossed his head at her approach. Perhaps he felt a wee bit silly. She unwound the reins and patted his sleek dark neck. I know. A dignified beast such as yerself should not be made to tote a ladder.

The two ambled through a field and along a path winding into the woods. The sun shone through the trees, casting its light on green ferns and awakening flowers. The atmosphere alone should have heightened her spirits, but her father’s aging captain weighed on her mind. Fergus was unusually quiet. His pain affected his mood, and she was determined to collect more elder bark and its white flowers to alleviate the inflammation around his wound.

She ventured farther into the forest, down the worn path to the clan’s southern border. Black elder trees flourished in the damp shady woodland at the edge of a large field covered in yellow rapeseed blossoms. The shifting wind blew through the unfurling plants, causing the tall stems to sway and spread their honeyed musky scent.

A large black elder stood tall amongst the pines and oaks. Fragrant white petals covered the ends of the branches. When made into tea, not only did elder ward off fever, it lifted the patient’s spirit. Just what Fergus needed.

After tethering her horse, she wrenched the ladder off the animal and leaned it against the trunk. She stood back and examined the limbs. The tree must be thirty feet tall. Its berries were turning red, not quite ready for harvest. If only I can climb up without killing myself, she muttered.

She looped her basket on her arm and pushed on the ladder to test its strength. Cautiously, she stepped on the first rung and bounced, then did so again, testing before she took the next step, and the next.

Her palms perspired. A deep breath helped quell her fear of heights. She held on tightly, hung her basket on a branch, and hoisted herself into the tree. The flowers blooming at the far end of the limbs were almost within her grasp. She raked her teeth across her bottom lip. All I have to do is inch along…one step at a time.

She stood while maintaining a death-grip on another branch. Rough bark scraped her hands, but her feet shuffled closer to the edge. Sitting on the limb, she stretched forward and retrieved the flowers. After filling her basket, she peered at the ground, and her fingers shook in nervous anticipation of climbing down.

Grasping a limb, she tucked her feet underneath her and clutched her basket. Gingerly, she made her way back to the nook of the tree and sighed with relief. But when she looked down, the ladder appeared much farther away than she remembered.

She let her basket fall to the ground and eased her bottom into the cranny of the tree, stretching her leg, feeling for the top of the ladder. Her foot slipped to the right, and she grabbed the tree and closed her eyes. The ladder scraped against the bark and fell with a thud.

Grand! Now what am I to do? She searched the trunk. Gnarled roots ran in different directions, creating a rough hard surface. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her gown and glanced toward the castle. Would anyone hear her scream? Fear twisted her stomach.

Her horse nickered, his head held high and ears pointed to the west. The jingle of bridles and the clop of heavy hooves grew close. Cameron eased her feet into the nook of the tree and stood on shaky legs to get a better view.

Several men on horseback rode in her direction. The one in front sported the Graham’s crest on his saddle.

She inhaled sharply. Oh, Lord. Did they return for more trouble? What would they do if they spotted her? Vulnerable and unprotected, her pulse hammered, her body trembling. Perhaps, if she remained quiet, they would pass without noticing her perched high in the tree.

As if he heard her thoughts, the leader of the group turned his head and met her eyes. He held up a hand, and the men stopped. His brows drew together. He nudged his mount toward her and tilted his head to the side, puzzlement reflected in his brown eyes.

His gaze raked her from head to toe, before coming to rest on her breasts. Her back straightened. How dare he examine her with such boldness.

Dark, shaggy hair hung to his broad shoulders with a single braid on either side of his face. Black stubble lined his cheeks and strong chin. The opening of his tan tunic revealed dark, curling chest hair, and the grey trews hugging his thighs disappeared inside his worn boots. A black and blue plaid draped his shoulder and rested under his leather belt. He crossed his hands on the saddle and raised his brows, as if he expected an explanation.

Cameron swallowed hard. Could this be Robert Graham? Why was he here? Given his outrageous stunt with Da’s bull, what more could he want? The Grahams had severely wounded Fergus over that beast. Her ire rose, and she looked down her nose at the men. She would do her best to regain her composure; however, it wasn’t easy to remain dignified while stuck in a tree.

His gaze dropped to the fallen ladder. A grin spread across his handsome face. To her horror, he threw a leg over his saddle and slid to the ground. The twinkle in his eyes clearly displayed his delight in her predicament.

Her back straightened. What do ye want? To cause more mayhem like yer dim-witted stunt of stealing my da’s bull? Do ye know what harm ye did? Do ye even care?

One of the men scoffed. Mayhem? Did ye hear that, Robert?

So he was Robert Graham.

He advanced toward her. Aye, I heard. But yer da was the clever fool who caused the bedlam, mistress. He had no reason to strap on his sword.

Her breathing quickened, and her nostrils flared. Da tried to recover his property. Ye were the ones who instigated the attack.

He shook his head. I see ye think like the rest of yer clan. So it’s fine for yer da to smear pig-slop over our new smokehouse and not suffer the consequences?

Consequences? That is what ye call yer senseless act?

Well, aren’t ye the bold one? the other man behind Robert jeered.

Robert paused, his hands firmly affixed to his hips. Do ye think it wise to insult and berate someone who can help ye out of that tree?

He did have a point. I don’t need yer help. I can get down whenever I want.

Can ye now? The man peered at the fallen ladder, the basket of scattered elder leaves and then back at her.

She lifted her head a notch higher, bobbing slightly with confidence she didn’t feel. When I’m ready to be down.

He propped the ladder against the tree.

Her hand clasped her chest. I’m fine, truly.

He climbed the first couple of rungs, and the corners of his mouth tugged up, dimples pressing into his rugged face. Aye, ye are that, but ye need my help, lass.

What should she do? She did need help, but that rickety ladder would not hold both of them. She glimpsed the bemused faces of the other men and turned her attention back on Robert. Now that ye’ve propped the ladder back up, I’ll get down on my own.

He stepped to the ground. By all means, please come down.

Cameron wished he would take his men and leave, but evidently, he intended to stay until she was out of the accursed tree.

Verra well. She turned, eased into the tree nook and felt for the ladder with her toes. She held on to the trunk and put her weight on the top rung. But when she stepped to the next, it started to topple. She lost her balance. Her arms flailed, frantically grasping at the rough bark. Before she plummeted to the knotted roots, the man caught her.

Oh! She gasped and gripped his powerful forearms.

He gently set her on the ground, and she turned to face him. A bit dazed, she ran trembling fingers down the front of her gown. His hands lingered at her waist, and when he didn’t step back, she looked up to find him smiling.

I believe ye owe me yer thanks, Mistress Cameron.

At his mention of her name, she searched his face. How do ye know me?

He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling throughout his thick chest. I make it my business to know all the bonnie lasses in the area.

The men behind him laughed.

Her stomach tightened. She was no beauty. He obviously mocked her—in front of his men. Prickly heat tingled across her cheeks.

I’ll catch up to ye, Robert called over his shoulder.

Oh, aye. Once ye’ve taken care of business, one man asserted.

Important business to be sure, the other bantered.

The men chuckled as they nudged their mounts, then trotted down the path and out of sight.

Robert’s gaze lingered on her mouth before he raised it to her eyes. I believe it’s customary to thank someone when they’ve helped ye.

Cameron cleared her throat. Aye, I do thank ye.

He studied her lips again. I had something more in mind. Ye know ye’d still be stuck in that tree if I hadn’t come along, so ye owe me.

His warm breath caressed her face. He bent and placed his mouth on hers. His arms pulled her close, his muscular frame molding her body against his. Stubble scratched her skin, and she inhaled his male scent of leather, and aye, of horse.

She should be horrified at his advances. What was she thinking, allowing a Graham to kiss her so…so wickedly and deliciously? She should push him away and demand he step back, but somehow, she loathed the idea. Indeed, she reveled in the feel of his hard body pressed against hers.

Robert broke the kiss, and she tried to compose herself. He placed his hand on the side of her face and paused, gazing into her eyes. I just returned from visiting yer da.

Cameron straightened. Ye talked to Da?

Robert searched her eyes, his thumb caressing her cheek. We have sealed a truce.

Her eyes widened. A truce?

 Aye. He lifted her hand to his mouth. "And I look forward to getting to know my neighbors much better."

He kissed her palm, and his whiskers scraped her skin. Tingles shot through her belly, and her breath caught at his dark mesmerizing eyes. They stared at each other through stilted silence. Finally, he stepped back and bowed. Good day, m’lady.

He leapt onto his horse. The large black animal pawed at the ground while Robert continued to stare at her. The appearance of his dimples and the sparkle in his eyes caused her stomach to flutter. He turned his horse in the direction of Graham Castle and galloped through the woods.

Her hands trembled. She pressed her fingers to her lips and stepped away from the tree, searching the path he took, but no one was in sight. Placing her hand on her chest, she fought to steady her nerves. Her legs shook, but she turned to her basket and gathered the spilt elder flowers.

My first kiss.

The desire lighting his eyes had both thrilled and horrified her.

He was a Graham—Robert Graham, no less.

A man who stole her father’s bull and because of his reckless act, Fergus might lose the use of his arm. She should not feel such exhilaration over her father’s adversary. But, no…he was no longer their enemy. Robert said they’d sealed a truce.

Her heart soared with happiness over an accord she had prayed for and envisioned in her dreams.

The sun shone directly overhead. It was time to return home. Muire would be waiting. She secured the ladder onto the horse and picked up her basket. With thoughts of her first kiss running through her mind, she led the animal down the path toward home.

~~~

Robert’s pulse hammered in his ears. What was wrong with him? They had only shared a kiss. Something about the MacDougall lass intrigued him. He grinned. Her soft curves and plump lips stirred his blood, not to mention his cock. The strain against the front of his trews was a painful reminder of her full breasts crushed against his chest. How he longed to cup their fullness and taste their sweetness. He groaned and shifted from his uncomfortable position, his thoughts not helping the situation.

Robert squeezed his legs around Eton, spurring him forward to catch Lachlan and Kendrick, who road ahead.

Lachlan smirked. Ye didn’t waste time getting the lass in yer arms.

Och, I couldn’t leave her stranded in the tree.

Nay, I suppose not. And of course ye wanted a reward for yer services, Kendrick asserted.

Robert grinned at his friends. A token of my Lady’s favor.

Oh, aye. To be sure, Lachlan agreed.

What was she doing in the tree? Her spilt basket had been full of elder bark and flowers. She didn’t appear a fanciful lass collecting fragrant flowers. More like willful and deliberate, berating him from her perch. Nay, MacDougall had boasted of Cameron’s healing ways. Most certainly, her habit of climbing trees aided the rendering of her treatments.

She held him responsible for stealing her da’s bull. He wanted to clear his name, tell her he had nothing to do with the raid. Hell, he wasn’t even around when his father’s men took the beast.

Why did he wish her to know he wanted no part of this feud? Did he desire her approval? The idea was absurd. Not since his former-betrothed had he coveted a lass’s acceptance. Upon finding Jacqueline in another man’s arms, Robert learned his lesson, no longer caring what women thought of him. He pleased them well enough and never lacked for bedmates, but he didn’t lose sleep over them nor waste time on a lass’s frivolous emotions. Important matters—the English soldiers and Scotland’s fight for freedom—demanded his attention. King Edward encroached on their land, getting closer to Graham Castle every day.

So why did he want Cameron’s approval? He couldn’t understand his caring what the lass thought of him. The idea was ridiculous and…disturbing. Well, all that aside, he definitely wanted to see her again.

This truce may prove to have advantages he had not yet considered.

~~~

Robert walked into Isobel’s room at dawn to find his two sisters asleep in front of the hearth. A log rolled in the grate, sending sparks flitting up the chimney. Nichola cradled their baby sister in her lap, firelight dancing across them.

When he gently picked up Isobel, Nichola woke and rubbed her eyes. Robert laid the little lass on her bed. She yawned and turned onto her side as he drew a blanket over her shoulder. Relief poured through him. She had survived another bout.

Nichola rubbed her arms. ’Tis my fault she had another breathing spell. I shouldn’t have taken her out-of-doors. I only wanted her to have a wee bit of fun.

 He stroked Isobel’s dark curls. I understand, but we have to be more careful. She’s fragile.

Isobel had stolen his heart the day she was born. Could it really be five years ago already? Because of her illness, she had not experienced the joy of running and playing, or having friends. The only life she knew was living inside her bedchamber walls.

He would give anything to find a cure, enabling her to live like other children. Da had brought in healers from around the country to treat her, but she continued to wheeze and cough, oftentimes gasping for air. At the healers’ insistence, heavy draperies covered the windows, and stifling oppressive air hung heavy in the room. Did the healers know what they were doing?

Nothing they had suggested helped Isobel.

He clasped Nichola’s shoulder. I must start the drills. Ye will let me know if she worsens?

His sister nodded, and her disheveled blonde hair fell over her shoulder, her blue eyes sad. Aye, I’ll be with her.

Robert strode across the room, down the stairs and into the bailey where sounds of clashing steel broke the early morning quiet. He marched across the line, inspecting his men’s progress. Even his old captain, Duncan, and Robert’s young brother joined in the exercises.

At ten years old, Androu had trained with Duncan for three years now and someday would become a fine warrior. His brother struggled to manage his sword, but what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in attitude.

Robert approached the two sparring. Well done, Androu. Watch for yer opening. Lunge in to take yer opponent out.

Androu parried blow for blow, but soon grew tired. Robert held up a hand and signaled Duncan to stop.

Yer technique improves every day, Robert said.

Androu proudly straightened his shoulders.

Robert ruffled his brother’s dark hair. Ye deserve a day off.

Androu’s eyes widened. Duncan promised to take me hunting. Can we go tomorrow?

How Robert would enjoy a carefree day. I’m ready for a good hunt, too. Mayhap I’ll join ye.

Aye! Androu jumped up and down while holding both arms in the air.

~~~

The next afternoon, Kendrick raced into Robert’s solar. Laird, the horses Duncan and Androu were riding came in without them.

Without them? Heart pounding, Robert swallowed the panic rising in his chest. He raced from the room, through the keep into the bailey with Kendrick following. To his left, Michael pumped the sharpening stone as Lachlan held his sword’s blade against the grinding rock, the noise loud and grating. Several others stood by, joking and laughing while awaiting their turn.

Lachlan, Michael, I need yer help.

Michael stood as Lachlan and the others turned to Robert. What is it? Lachlan asked.

Duncan and Androu are missing, Robert shouted. Brian, David, mount up. Kendrick, send runners to the clan families and have the men scour the area.

They ran to their mounts. Robert grabbed Duncan’s horse and sprang onto his back. He dug his heels into the animal’s sides, and the men thundered out of the bailey and into the woods.

Duncan and Androu had gone on a simple hunt. Had something happened to both of them? How he wished Laird McCarthy’s untimely visit this morning had not prevented him from accompanying the two. If there had been an accident, he would have been there to help, perhaps prevent it.

His chest constricted. Androu had followed in Robert’s footsteps, tagging along behind, mimicking and trying hard to become a man. He prayed they would find him alive and unharmed.

Robert called for his brother and Duncan repeatedly, but received no response. He had no idea which way the two went. Frantic, he raked his fingers through his hair.

Where would they have gone?

Split up so we can cover more ground. Brian and David, search the south side of the woods. Lachlan and Kendrick, come with me. We’ll head north.

Splashes of purple and red streaked the darkening sky. His shoulders slumped. Where were they? He searched the forest and the tall grass. He’d been over this area before, but as he turned, he caught sight of the captain lying in a thicket of weeds.

There’s Duncan! Robert jumped from his horse, hurried to the old man and knelt beside him. Two arrows fletched with characteristic red and black feathers protruded from his back.

MacDougall feathers!

Fury welled from the pit of his stomach. His nostrils flared, and his breath came hard and fast. Duncan lay on his stomach, his head turned to the side. He was cold, but air puffed against Robert’s fingers.

He’s alive! Robert called over his shoulder. Can ye hear me, man? Where’s Androu?

Duncan moaned.

How could