Unbroken: Heart of a Highlander
By Scarsky
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About this ebook
Betrothed to a man scarred by battles, an English maiden must conquer her past and his heart in the untamed Scottish Highlands.
Isabella, an unconventional woman, feels stifled in the rigid English courts. In the rugged Highlands, she finds a place where she can finally be free. Lachlan, a laird scarred by past battles, has resigned himself to a life of solitude and bitterness. But when he meets Isabella, he finds a spark he never believed he'd feel again.
In the vast beauty of the Highlands, their destinies intertwine as they face rival clans, old flames, and their own pasts. Isabella's spirit challenges Lachlan's walls, as they find a love neither of them ever expected. But will their personal demons tear them apart, or can they heal each other's wounds and reclaim not just their lands, but their hearts?
"Unbroken: Heart of a Highlander" is a compelling tale of resilience, love, and the power of the human spirit to heal. This sweeping historical romance will take you on a journey through pain, triumph, and the unmatched beauty of the Scottish Highlands.
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Unbroken - Scarsky
Unbroken: Heart of a Highlander
Scarsky
image-placeholderScarsky
Copyright © 2023 Scarsky
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
To request permissions, contact the publisher at email@scarsky.com
ISBN: 979-839-77-6027-0 (Paperback)
ISBN: 978-981-18-7640-0 (Ebook)
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
First printing edition 2023
Scarsky
www.scarsky.com
Contents
Chapter 1: Not a Lady
Chapter 2: Journey into the Unknown
Chapter 3: Arrival at the MacKinnon's
Chapter 4: A Place to Call Home
Chapter 5: Unexpected Challenge
Chapter 6: Dance with a Laird
Chapter 7: A Devious Plot
Chapter 8: Traditions and the New
Chapter 9: Forging a New Path
Chapter 10: A Step Forward
Chapter 11: A Brother's Resolve
Chapter 12: Winds of War
Chapter 13: For Pride and Land
Chapter 14: New Life
About Author
Chapter 1: Not a Lady
In the swirling midst of King Edward's gilded, bustling court, Isabella, a free-spirited maiden, was gasping for air. She felt like a wild bird ensnared in the intricately woven tapestry of court life.
The lavish, nearly suffocating splendor of the court, from the richly woven fabrics to the sparkling jewels that reflected the courtiers' conspiratorial smiles, were foreign to her unbridled soul, whose spirit burned brighter than any hearth. These were the trappings of a world which demanded her obedience, a world blind to her longing for authenticity, her craving for something more profound, more real than the staged display of courtly life.
Quietly, Isabella slipped into a hidden courtyard, a sanctuary concealed from the prying eyes of the court. A spark of indomitable spirit danced in her eyes, brighter than the most precious gem. Her fiery red curls, more unruly than the court would prefer, were swept back from her striking face, revealing a pair of clear sapphire-blue eyes and an expression of bold determination. Her attire echoed her defiance - not the typical restrictive finery of courtly ladies, but simple, comfortable clothing that lent itself to physical pursuits.
Clasped in her gloved hand was a blunted training sword, an extension of her resolve, its weight familiar. As she wielded it with practiced assurance, her swings echoed in the quiet space.
On the opposite side of the training ground stood Sir William Foster, a knight grizzled by battles fought and won, his loyalty running deeper than the scars marring his skin. His gaze was a strange blend of sternness and warmth. Esteemed as a peerless warrior with a reputation that resonated within the kingdom's circles, he held a deep paternal affection for Isabella, a fondness for her fierce spirit that many in the court overlooked, if not outright condemned.
With a silent nod from Sir William, a signal only they understood, Isabella lunged forward, her sword slicing through the air with an astonishing level of precision and control. The silence of the secluded courtyard was shattered by the harsh song of steel meeting steel, the notes of their sparring session a testament to her resolve and determination. She was poetry in motion, each movement a line, each strike a stanza of her defiance.
Her heart might have been heavy under the burden of expectations heaped upon her, but in the discipline of combat, in the raw simplicity of steel and sweat, she had found an escape, a stark contrast to the stifling confines of her existence at court.
Sir William's eyes, sharp as a falcon's, scrutinized Isabella’s every move. He saw not a lady of the court but a formidable fighter, a woman who would not cower but stand firm.
He was aware of the spark that she carried, a flame of perseverance, seeking something more than the sheltered life prescribed to her by her station. When she had expressed her desire to defend herself in a world that didn't care to understand her, he had taken her under his wing, schooling her in the skills that had served him well on the battlefield. Their bond was strong, forged in respect and mutual understanding.
In a lull between bouts, Sir William studied Isabella with a furrowed brow, worry crinkling his battle-worn face.
You seem a world away today, Isabella,
he voiced out his concern, his tone coarse as bark of an ancient oak. Are you unwell?
She simply shook her head, waving his worry away with a slight shrug. I'm well, Sir William. Just a little out of sorts, that's all.
A skeptical huff escaped him as he leaned against a stone pillar, his gaze unwavering. You know we can't hone your skills if your thoughts are elsewhere. You're better than this, Isabella,
he said, his words carrying the weight of a gentle reprimand.
A prickle of tears threatened to blur her vision, but she forced them back, maintaining her composure. I’m sorry. I shall strive to concentrate better,
she whispered, her grip on her sword tightening. It's just that....
The knight softened at her words. In the silence that followed, they shared an unspoken understanding - it wasn't the physical exertion that tested Isabella.
I understand. It’s a harsh thing to deny who you truly are. In our English society, it’s not seen as befitting for a lady of your standing to be training with weapons like a man does. If it were up to me, things would be different, but as you know, your guardian, King Edward, wishes for you to engage in more ladylike activities. And so, this shall be our last training session together.
Isabella nodded, her fingers hastily dabbing away unshed tears at the corners of her eyes. In this secluded courtyard, under the tutelage of the grizzled knight who had become her mentor, she had found a taste of the freedom she yearned for. With each passing day, she was growing stronger, ready to stand her ground, ready to fight her battles. The thought of it all ending, all because societal norms dictated what a woman should or should not do, was unbearable.
If she had been born a man, things would have been different…
Her focus was split between the sounds of her own breathing and the rhythmic clanging of their swords, but an unexpected interruption jolted her from her thoughts. The loud clinking of armored boots against cobblestone heralded an uninvited guest. Her grip on the training sword slackened, her concentration shattering as she turned to face the newcomer. Standing at the entrance of the courtyard, a man of noble bearing, clad in the crimson livery of King Edward's court, projected a cold, calculating demeanor. His icy gaze met Isabella's as he announced in a booming voice, A message from His Majesty, King Edward.
The quiet sanctuary disappeared as the words echoed like a thunderclap through the stone arches. Sir William lowered his sword, the chiseled features of his face betraying his grim understanding. Court messengers seldom sought the company of a simple knight unless it was of grave importance.
Bracing herself, Isabella gently placed her training sword down with a grace that belied her tension. A message from the King himself could only signify monumental tidings, and her heart pounded with dreadful anticipation.
The messenger unfurled a sealed parchment, reading aloud the royal decree, his voice filling the silent courtyard. Lady Isabella, ward of the King, is hereby commanded to wed Laird Lachlan MacKinnon of the Scottish Highlands. Let the nuptials strengthen the bonds of unity between England and Scotland.
The proclamation hung heavily in the still air, more oppressive than the thickest fog. A marriage decree, and to a Scottish Laird no less! The news swept Isabella up in a maelstrom of emotions - fear, confusion, and oddly enough, a hint of excitement. She was to leave the suffocating familiarity of the court to marry a stranger in a foreign land.
Visions of the wild, untamed Scottish Highlands filled her mind, a sharp contrast to her life at the English court. Would it be the place of freedom she had been yearning for, or would it be yet another cage, merely of a different shape and form? And what about married life? Her mother's absence had left her with no guidance about the intricacies of matrimony. Would she be able to meet the expectations of her future husband? And would he be able to meet hers?
***
Isabella sought solace in the tranquil confines of the castle garden, surrounded by a silence that held an almost palpable weight. Word of the royal decree had swept through the court, fast and furious like