His Scottish Bride: Stolen Brides Series, #5

By Shelly Thacker

A winter storm leaves a Scottish lass snowbound with a French knight...who is not her betrothed.

 

Lady Aileen MacFarland has already lost one husband in battle and doesn't intend to become a warrior's bride again. Especially not a warrior like Sir Henri d'Amboise. During his time in the Highlands, the handsome Frenchman has acquired a reputation for his valor, his taste for adventure—and his way with the ladies. Aileen is determined to resist the roguish knight. For the good of her family, her father has already promised her in marriage to a wealthy laird.

 

But when a holiday hunting expedition is interrupted by a winter storm, Aileen and Henri find themselves plunged into dangerous adventure, stranded alone together in a rustic Highland refuge…and swept away by a passion that might burn all of Aileen's plans to cinders.

 

Enjoy a steamy holiday in the Highlands in this all-new novella, never before published!

"A sigh-worthy story from beginning to end! Excellently written and well-paced, with amazing character chemistry. From the first page, I was totally captivated. It's a holiday delight that will bring cheer and love to all." – Goodreads reviewer

 

"An emotional rollercoaster full of delightful characters, witty conversation, Highland lore, love and hope....and a night of steamy passion. Reading this story is a wonderful and uplifting experience." – Goodreads reviewer

 

"Henri and Aileen are wonderful characters with an obvious chemistry and I loved his devotion to her. The book has a lot of emotion, steamy love scenes, a wonderful twist and finally a HEA complete with an epilogue! This book is part of a series, but it can easily be read as a standalone title. I really enjoyed this book and would happily recommend it to anyone!" – Goodreads reviewer

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shelly Thacker
• Release date: May 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223079873

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title Page

The Stolen Brides Series

A Note from Shelly

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

Thank You

Also by Shelly Thacker

About Shelly Thacker

Copyright

These regal brides are about to discover that falling in love with a warrior is the most dangerous adventure of all. Each book in the Stolen Brides Series is a stand-alone steamy historical romance:

Book 1: HIS STOLEN BRIDE (Darach and Laurien)

Book 2: FOREVER HIS (Gaston and Celine)

Book 3: HIS FORBIDDEN TOUCH (Royce and Princess Ciara)

Book 4: HIS CAPTIVE BRIDE (Hauk and Avril)

Book 5: HIS SCOTTISH BRIDE (Henri and Aileen)

For the latest news and sneak previews of upcoming books, visit http://www.shellythacker.com/contact to subscribe to Shelly’s free email newsletter.

A NOTE FROM

Dear Reader: If this is the first time you’ve read one of my books, welcome! After you enjoy Henri and Aileen’s holiday love story, I hope you’ll indulge yourself in all the emotion, adventure and steamy romance of my full-length novels. You’ll find descriptions of each of my books on my website.

I also wanted to mention that my assistant and I carefully proofread each of my books before publication. We work hard to produce ebooks that are 100% free of typographical errors. But typos are sneaky little devils, and sometimes they slip past us. If you spot any typos lurking in this book, please visit http://www.shellythacker.com/contact to email them to me. Thank you! Together, we can stamp out sneaky typos.

Warmest wishes and happy reading,

Shelly

To K.A.B.

ma chere amie

Glenshiel, Scotland, December 1296

My Dear Sir Wicked,

I know ’tis bold of me to write and wish you a happy Yuletide, but I trust that I will be forgiven. I am certain you must be busy with your military obligations at home in France, so please dinna feel that you must reply to my missive.

My family, indeed the entire MacLennan clan, has returned to Castle Glenshiel to celebrate the Yule season. Lord Darach is always so generous with his hospitality. Being here again, I canna help thinking of you.

I remember the autumn day when we met at the wedding of Lord Darach and your sister, Lady Laurien. And I remember the morning in June when we parted for the last time. Even though we knew one another but a few months, Henri, the memories are still sweet.

As I write this, I can hear everyone celebrating in the great hall below. They are a boisterous and merry bunch, my kin, the men raising toasts and laughing, the ladies and children dancing to the music of the Highland pipes. I will return to the festivities anon, but for the moment, I am happier here. I wonder if you can guess where I am.

I am sitting in the library, beneath the stained-glass window with the image of two doves…I think you may remember the spot? The new tower is finished now, and the setting sun looks like pale gold sparkling through the glass. The light makes the very air glow with color, bright blues and emerald greens and soft amber. I feel warm just being here, remembering that summer day when we said farewell and you called me your sweet lass.

Your sister tells me that you are soon to ride into battle, fighting for the French king. I pray that God will watch over you, Henri. Please stay safe. You are so daring that I think you may need a few extra guardian angels to watch over you. The poor creatures may be divine, but they must have the very devil of a time trying to keep up with you.

Your daring, if you recall, was one of the reasons why I dubbed you Sir Wicked. That and certain pursuits you enjoy with such enthusiasm. Now you have made me blush, and you are not even here. ’Twas a proper dubbing, done with a branch of a Scottish rowan tree, which is considered sacred, so the name is binding for life.

I hope ’twill be a long life, Henri. If it helps during the days to come, count me among your angels. Consider me your faraway Scottish angel in the Highlands, thinking of you often and praying for you.

I also hope ’twill be all right if I continue to write to you, mayhap simply about my days at home on the Isle of Mull, and all the mischief my nieces and nephews get up to. Truly, you should not feel obligated to reply.

I dinna know if ’twill ever be possible, but if the angels smile upon us, I do hope to see you again someday.

Ever Your Sweet Lass,

Aileen

December 1301

The season of Yule had always brought lightness and joy to Lady Aileen MacLennan MacFarland’s heart. The bonfires and bright candles, the music of harps and pipes, the scent of evergreen boughs, the laughter of children—she looked forward to the festivities all year long. She especially loved celebrating here at Castle Glenshiel , with her closest friends and the entire, exuberant MacLennan clan.

But this year, she could find no merriment in her heart.

Because in just four days, her life would change forever.

In four days, she would no longer be known as the adoring aunt of her many nieces and nephews. Or pitied as the tragic widow of the fallen hero Sir Cael MacFarland.

On the day of Christ’s Mass, or Christmas as so many now called it, she would become the bride of one of the wealthiest lords in all the Highlands.

Any lass—at least, any lass other than Aileen MacLennan MacFarland—would be thrilled by the unexpected proposal that had come her way a fortnight ago.

But Aileen found herself troubled and distracted, try as she might to get swept up in the excitement swirling around her at Castle Glenshiel. She had even donned an emerald-green gown this morn and pinned up her red hair in fancy plaits to try and feel more festive. Carrying an engraved silver cup of freshly brewed tea, she hastened down the corridor from the kitchens and entered the great hall.

’Twas only mid-morning and already the enormous chamber bustled with activity, literally from top to bottom. Servants strung evergreen boughs from the rafters, burned rowan twigs to bring peace and blessings upon all who would enter the keep, and spread fresh rushes and herbs across the floor. The Yuletide festivities would last for twelve days, from the eve of Christmas to Hogmany—the Scottish celebration of the New Year—all the way to the feast of Epiphany in January.

The castle’s steward, Ranald, stood on a dais opposite the hearth, directing the men who were carrying in trestle tables and benches for the large number of guests who would soon begin arriving. Serving maids set new candles in all the candelabras, while others trimmed boughs of spruce and holly to decorate the tables, and children tied red ribbons on bundles of mistletoe for the doorways. More maids were at work on the floors above, putting the finishing touches on the castle’s many guest rooms.

Aileen spotted her friend Lady Laurien, the mistress of Castle Glenshiel, who was doing her best to supervise all the preparations while keeping her children—and a flock of their little MacLennan cousins—out of trouble.

Laurien’s husband Lord Darach and most of the castle’s men-at-arms and squires had left before dawn to hunt for wild boar, which would be the centerpiece of the Yuletide feast.

Aileen walked over and handed Laurien the steaming cup she carried. "Your tea, bana-charaid, my dear friend. Rose leaf and mint, no honey…with a wee bit of lime juice. You are certain this is what you wanted?"

Thank you, Aileen. Laurien sighed with relief as she accepted the cup, her green eyes shining, her cheeks rosy. I know it sounds terribly sour, but this tea is honestly the only thing that helps when I am… Her voice trailed off.

Expecting, Aileen finished for her, smiling. There is no keeping it secret, Laurien. I suspected as soon as I arrived yesterday. You have that glow about you. She gave her friend a warm hug. Congratulations. And blessings to your new wee bairn.

Laurien returned her embrace. "I am so happy you are here, ma chere amie."

My sisters-in-law were happy to send their children off with me to Glenshiel a few days early. They both send you their thanks for the gift of a wee bit of peace and quiet.

Laurien nodded in understanding. "Little ones can be a bit too spirited at this time of year. But the cousins all love to play together."

And they are mayhap a bit easier to manage all in one flock. Aileen smiled as she and Laurien walked toward the hearth, arm in arm, Now I must ask, by what Yuletide magic did you obtain limes in December? I saw lemons in the kitchens as well. And I may have pilfered an orange while waiting for your tea to steep.

Laurien laughed, sipping from her cup before she replied. One of our guests who arrived late last night brought heaps of fruit.

Ah, ’tis good to have friends who can give rare gifts from faraway lands. Aileen’s smile widened. Be sure to introduce me to him. Or her?

Him. Laurien smiled a bit mysteriously. "He rode out on the hunt with Darach. I am certain he will