The Highlander's Substitute Bride: Brides of the Highlands, #3

By Fiona Grant

Crissa and Owena Macleod, auburn-haired twins who are impossible to tell apart, have always been close. As children, one of their favorite games was to pretend to be each other to confuse their family and friends.

Crissa thinks she may never recover from losing both her husband and her darling child, and spends her days quietly in the Maclean Keep — until one day her twin, Owena, comes to her begging for help.

Owena has fallen in love with a dashing young man who does mysterious work for the King. To her dismay, her father has arranged her betrothal to Kenrik Maclean. With tears in her eyes, Owena exerts all her wiles to persuade Crissa to take her place. Can she not remember what it was like to love someone so deeply? Surely she will do this for her sister? After all, she says, as a widow, Crissa can marry whomever she likes!

Crissa finally gives in, but although the wedding passes without the groom being any the wiser, neither twin could possibly have foreseen where their deception would lead.…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Gem Publishing
• Release date: Apr 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781922772138

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Proposal

Crissa winced as the needle pricked her finger. A spot of blood bloomed on the tip of her thumb, staining the clean square of linen she’d been working on. The sight of the blood brought tears to her eyes, and she sucked in a breath as she turned her face to the window. 

Outside, rain poured down into a rolling ocean. Twas a day much like the one she had lost her husband and sweet bairn, Hume, and she had been lost in thoughts of her life with them. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear her bairn’s bell-like laugh and feel James’ arms tight about her shoulders. It had been two years now since their accident, and still, the heartache was as fresh as it had been the day they had been lost to the waves and rocks along the edge of their land. 

One tear slipped down her pale cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. 

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of her chamber door creaking open and turned to see her sister, Owena, dramatically shutting the door behind her. Her twin’s brilliant, auburn hair tumbled about her shoulders in a wild tangle as she leaned backwards, pushing the door closed with outstretched arms. It clicked shut with a soft puff of air as Owena touched one slim finger to her cupid’s bow lips and blew a kiss. Two dimples, one deep and one barely more than a crease, puckered her pink cheeks. 

Crissa felt her heart swell at the sight of her sister; her sadness swept away by the sight of a lass she loved so well. Whereas Crissa had always been the quieter of the two, older by just a few short moments, and therefore, she liked to think, wiser, Owena was a ray of sunshine in their grey keep by the sea. She rose from her seat, sweeping her own perfectly plaited auburn hair off her shoulder and down her back to greet her sister. 

I thought you would be out leaping in rain puddles, Owena. Is not that what you enjoy doing on such a day as this? Crissa could not contain the smile which crept up along the corners of her own plump lips. 

Owena stuck out her tongue. Just because I enjoy the feel of a good seashore rain on my face, Crissa, does not mean I am a lad. However, I have spent my time in better ways this morning.

Doing what, pray tell? I am sure I shall be fascinated to hear it. Crissa crossed her arms. Whatever her twin was up to, she had a feeling twas something mischievous. 

Well, Owena began, bringing her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper and losing her smile, They have decided tis time for me to wed.

Not unreasonable, Crissa said. 

"Nay, but Crissa, they think I should wed Laird Maclean!" Owena cried, her blue eyes growing wide with distress. 

Kenrik Maclean? Crissa replied.

Aye! Laird Kenrik Maclean!

Crissa looked out the window for a moment before speaking again. She needed to find the right words. "I am sorry, sister, but I fail to see what the problem is…? Laird Kenrik is a kind man, one we have known since childhood. You yourself have had many a happy conversation with him. And he is a bonnie man! Quite handsome, if I may say so myself. She frowned. Why then are you so upset? It seems a good match to me." 

Ahh! Owena threw her hands up in the air and tossed her beautiful head. "It would not be a bad match if I were not in love with another man! I cannot marry the Laird, Crissa!" 

Not this again, Owena. Crissa crossed her arms tight over her chest. Some days the age difference between her and Owena seemed greater than just a few moments. Unlike her sister, Owena had never been married, never had to take responsibility for a life other than her own. She had not had to outgrow the ways of a lass, and some days, that frustrated Crissa. This infatuation with a silly lad needed to end.

But now, shockingly, Owena was down on her knees, clinging to Crissa’s arms, pressing her face against her waist, against the place she had carried her wee Hume before he was born. Please, sister. I shall never ask another favour of you again so long as I live!

Owena! Stop this! Crissa tried to wrench her arm away. Do not debase yourself so. We are daughters; we do not have a choice in who we wed.

"But a widow does! Owena clung tight. A widow may marry whomever she pleases. Please, Crissa! Have you forgotten what it is to be in love? You were lucky! You and James were meant for one another, and you knew that from the first time you laid eyes on him. He was besotted with you since we were wee bairns rambling about the hills. Tis not fair that you should be given that blessing but will not allow so for your own sister!"

"Owena! What are you asking?" Even as the words escaped her lips, Crissa felt the sting of Owena’s words, as her sister knew too well. Twas true; Crissa had been blessed to have had many years of love with her late husband, James. He had been a childhood friend of their brother’s, and had known the ladies since they were all bairns. Their love had had many years to grow and blossom and, when she turned fourteen and was old enough to be wed, he had taken her to his bed with love and laughter. Owena had stood beside her and supported her all through those years. Perhaps she had a point now. 

Please, Owena whispered again. We can switch places, as we used to when we were young lassies. No one shall know. They never do!

Crissa sighed. Her mind whirled: Never had Owena been as wild as this. But… her resolve was weakening. She could not deny that Owena was entitled to love such as the one she had known with James. 

Owena, sensing her thoughts, rose from the ground to face her sister. Crissa studied her face. The same wide, blue eyes. The same tumbling, auburn hair. The same freckles. The only difference between the two sisters was their dimples: Two deep thumbprints in Crissa’s cheeks, one deep and one shallow in her twin’s. 

Owena was right; no one yet had ever noticed when they switched places. Twas true that they would probably be able to get away with this scheme

For a while, anyway. But then…. 

But what about after the wedding night, Owena? Crissa bit her lip. Laird Maclean is a good man, but even a good man would be insulted to find out he has been tricked by women. That could cost our family its good reputation. Crissa’s heart beat faster at the very thought of such shame. Possibly even our lives, if he is angry enough! What will happen when he finds out? 

I have already thought of that, Crissa, Owena said. She drew in a deep breath, and her hand closed around her sister’s arm. "Sister…I propose we change places forever. You shall be Owena, and through your marriage to Laird Maclean, our family shall remain respectable. And I, like you, shall be free to wed Leslie Morgan. No one shall question the matrimonial decisions of a widow!" 

Crissa sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Why did the Lord insist on testing her so? What sins had she committed that required such punishment as this? 

"Please, Crissa!"

Crissa shook her head. To become her sister for the rest of her life? To answer to another woman’s name? How could anyone do that?

Then she made the mistake of looking into her sister’s pleading blue eyes, now filmed with tears, and felt something splinter inside her. Aye, she thought, what did it matter, in the end? She had lost her James. 

And she was bored with her life. She did not want to be Crissa, the sad widow of James, anymore. If she couldn’t have James, perhaps she could forge a life with a man she had at least always liked. 

Verra well, Owena, she said impulsively. "I shall agree to this crazy scheme of yours. What does it signify to me anyway? You are right; I have already had love. All I want now is a comfortable home and perhaps more bairns to care for if I am lucky enough. If you feel so strongly that this Leslie Morgan is the man for