The Highlander's Brave Maid: Highland Heroes, #1

By Fiona Grant

Gavin Hay is devastated when he learns that his parents, who have spent their lives in dangerous service to the King, have disappeared while on a mission.

He sets off to find them, not knowing whether he'll be rescuing or bringing him their bodies—with his fey sister Isobel's whispered parting words echoing in his brain: "Gavin, you must trust only a lass who is marked in scarlet, with hair like a lad…"

He finally arrives at the Menzies Keep, knowing that he must keep his wits about him with these known traitors, or he will be despatched as speedily as his lost parents.

But he finds an unexpected ally: the girl spoken of by his wee sister Isobel. Firtha, a lowly maid in the keep, is treated worse than the curs that scrounge around the muddy yard. But she is brave, and resourceful, and eager to help the son of Lady Hay, who was so kind to her.

But life in the Highlands is not easy, especially for a King's spy. Gavin has to call upon all his strength and cunning to face his enemies and to find out the fate of his parents.

And Firtha? Dare she dream that one day she might be more than a maid to Gavin Hay?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Gem Publishing
• Release date: Jul 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781922772213

Book preview

Chapter 1

Long-dreaded News

Acold blast of seawater sprayed across Gavin Hay’s cheek. Without skipping a beat, he wiped his face and swiped a shock of dark auburn hair off his forehead and out of his eyes, all while keeping a tight grip on the wooden sword he held tight in his left hand. 

A tall lad charged at him across the wet sand. Have at you, cousin! I see you still hold your sword like the abomination you are! Though the lad’s words were harsh, he smiled as he swung. 

Gavin brought his sword up, blocking the blow. As he rounded his arm down, he twisted his sword and sent his cousin face first down to the sand. Aye, Rabbie. I have the devil’s hand, and I fight like him too. He winked and leaned down, offering the cursed hand to help his cousin up off his knees. 

Rabbie took his hand and stood up off the ground, wiping sand off his knees with a chuckle. When he stood up, he was taller than his cousin, though not by much. They shared the same auburn hair of all the children of Owena and Crissa Macleod, though Rabbie’s was a touch lighter, the straw colour of his father’s hair lightening the burnished copper of his mother’s. Their eyes, though, were the same, spicy hazel with a spark of mischief. Tis a pity it is so quiet in the highlands this year. I dare say that devilish hand of yours would be quite useful in battle now that you have learned how to use it properly. No one expects to be thrown off to the side like that! 

Gavin chuckled. Aye. My secret weapon! 

Will you two lovebirds stop ogling one another? A third man bellowed as he waded across the heavy sand. Waves rolled up the shore, soaking his boots and searching about his ankles, though he paid them no mind. Andrew was the captain of Laird Kenrik’s guard, a seasoned warrior, and a longtime mentor to Gavin and Rabbie. Grizzled and gruff, he had seen more than his fair share of battles and had the scars to prove it. 

He walked to stand next to Gavin, clapping the younger man on the back. I am glad to see you fighting so well, lad. I have to be honest; I dinna think we could train you to be a fighter, not until you learned to use your right hand properly. But I was wrong. Just, dinna tell the ladies about your abominable hand until you have them between your sheets, eh? In the dark, they canna tell, and once you have them, I doubt they shall run from you! He winked, and all three men laughed. 

Thank you, Andrew, for the sage advice. I am sure I shall use it. As it is, my father wishes me to practice more with my right hand. He says my defect is too apparent. 

And he is right, lad. Andrew’s voice dropped, taking on a serious edge. It may mean your life one day to pass as normal. But, for now, as long as you fight as well as I saw today, I think it shall not be a problem. Now, you, he turned to Rabbie, You need a bit more of the devil in you lad! How could you not see that Gavin would tumble you like that? You looked like a lassie on her wedding night, fainting to the ground! 

The men laughed again and shared a bit more banter concerning lassies and beds. 

Are you three finished down there? An exasperated voice cut down to them from the cliff above. 

Gavin looked up to see his younger sister, Mairead, and their cousin Anne, sitting with their legs dangling over the cliff edge, bare feet kicking back and forth in space. Mairead had her arms crossed over her chest, her bonnie face cold and haughty. Anne rolled her eyes and threw her hands up into the air. 

Is there something we can help you with, ladies? Rabbie winked at Gavin, and then, face innocent as a bairn’s, he looked up at the lasses who scowled down at them from the cliff. 

Aye! Anne shouted back. Ye can finish your practice so Mairead and I may have a turn. You have been long enough now, and we have been verra patient! Besides, Rabbie, you’re not like to beat Gavin today. He already tossed you to the sand once. Why should you wish for him to do it again? 

Andrew whooped with laughter. Fiery lass, is ye not? Like yer aunt! 

Twas true; Gavin knew. Anne had inherited all of his mother’s fire and sass, as well as her coppery hair. He knew she yearned to follow in Owena’s footsteps. His sister, Mairead, was brave and spirited as well, though more calculated than her cousin. She was clever, like their father, Rory Hay. The lassies were inseparable, and Gavin could not help but wonder how much longer their parents would be able to convince them to stay at home and out of trouble. 

Beside him, Andrew continued, We shall be done soon enough, lassies. Just give us a few more moments of practice, eh? Mayhap we can teach that brother of yours the proper way to fight a devil? He chuckled. 

Anne laughed, tossing her head back in delight at the joke. Fine! But be quick. Mairead and I should like to practice before the tide comes in and sweeps away our practice space. 

Do you think they shall finish in time for us to practice? Anne sighed, laying her dark head on her elder cousin’s shoulder. 

Nay. Mairead laughed. "My brother is having too much fun, proving them all wrong about his hand. I know he has been practising fighting left-handed for some time now, though they all told him it could not, nay, should not be done."

But it shall make him more valuable on the battlefield! To be able to fight no matter what arm your sword rests on! Anne, with a mind ever turned to fighting and strategy, did not see what the uproar was about her cousin’s defect.

It would. If there were any battles happening at the moment. Mairead tilted her own head, laying it on her cousin’s, her dark hair mixing with Anne’s fiery tresses. 

It has been too quiet lately, Anne said, her voice quiet and suddenly serious. Do you worry? 

For a long moment, there was silence as the lasses watched the men below them, shouting and charging into one another, laughing when one or more of them ended up in the sand. 

Then, Mairead whispered, Aye. I do worry, Anne. This peace has me on edge. I know I should welcome it, but I canna help but feel that something is happening just out of reach of my eyes. I canna explain it better than that. 

I feel it too, cousin, Anne said. Tis only a matter of time before the storm clouds come rolling in towards us. Och! If only twas more accepted for lasses to stand and fight as well. And learn battle arts. I am sure we should be just as much help, more so if we did not have to slink about in the shadows like my aunt. I feel so helpless, sitting here like this. 

I do too, wee dove, Mairead answered. Her chest heaved in a sigh. She did not want to admit just how much she worried about her brother. She knew he meant to follow in their parent’s footsteps, and she could not blame him for that. She felt the same tug in her own chest. But the matter of his hand twas something he had gotten adept at hiding, but he was bound to make a mistake. Left-handed warriors were a rarity in the highlands, the children either mercifully killed or, she shivered at the thought, executed as witches. If he forgot himself one day, it would be easy enough for him to be discovered. 

Suddenly, shouts filled the air, and the sound of a horse galloping through heavy sand and salt water crashed across the wee beach. In unison, the girls lifted their heads and turned to watch the rider who flew along the shore, crying out that he had an urgent message for Laird Gavin. The men below them stopped what they were doing, and Gavin ran to meet the rider, who had by that time stopped his mount and slid off to meet his quarry on foot, a letter clasped tightly in his hand. 

Mairead felt her heart squeeze tight in her chest. This was it. The storm cloud she had felt building for weeks now had finally crashed onto her shore. 

Gavin read the note in his hand several times over before he let it sink in. Finally, he