The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,1

away a dark-haired woman.” The sheriff paused, hope in his gaze again.

The Scot rubbed his jaw as he thought. “There is one who looks like the Grant. Long dark hair and blue eyes like his sweet Madeline.”

The sheriff nodded resolutely. “Hire men to steal her away and bring her to me. Perhaps you can help me find an appropriate location to hide her.”

The Scot’s eyes showed an odd sense of satisfaction. “My pleasure, Sheriff. I know just the place.”

Chapter One

July 1307, the Highlands of Scotland

One passing glance, and his entire world changed.

Alick MacNicol had wondered if he’d ever find love like his two cousins had, simply because no lass had ever held his interest. Oh, he enjoyed their company, loved to make them laugh, but he had yet to meet the one who would make him want anything beyond a dance, a short conversation, or a kiss.

And yet, he immediately felt drawn to the lass hiding in the corner of Grant Castle as people danced and caroused and laughed all around her. He’d never seen her before, and something told him he needed to know her better.

Brown hair fell in waves about her shoulders, her curves well hidden beneath a loose gown, but there was no doubt they were there and beautiful.

As beautiful as the delicate cheekbones, the wide eyes whose color he couldn’t discern from this far away, and the plump lips that called to him, but her beauty was not what called him to her.

Despite the haunted look on her face, he caught a flash of longing in her eyes. What drove it? Was it the desire to join all the young people talking, jesting, and dancing in the middle of the floor? Could it be a desire for one specific lad she liked? Or was it as simple as the desire to move to the music?

Whatever it was, he would answer the siren’s call and find out for himself.

And if he could, he would make the lass smile.

Alick made his way across the floor of the dancers in the middle of the hall, elbows and knees knocking him frequently, but he hardly noticed. The festival was a raucous one, held to celebrate Alick and his three cousins, who’d recently assisted Robert the Bruce in his quest for Scotland’s independence from a cruel English king, and Elshander and Joya’s marriage, though both were still at MacLintock Castle. His grandsire, the renowned Alex Grant, was there with them.

By rights, Alick should be there too—he and his cousins had formed a group they called the Highland Swords to fight Scotland’s enemies—but he’d never had it in him to stray far from home. He’d convinced Dyna to come back with him so they might see their parents. She’d come willingly enough, knowing he wouldn’t settle until he knew their family was hale, and a good thing—his mother was ill with one of her headaches and stomach complaints. He’d fussed over her as much as he could until his father had nearly kicked him down the staircase. They’d both promised him she would be better in a few days and insisted that he was to attend the festival arranged to celebrate his return.

Which meant there was very little he could do for the time being—other than make the dark-haired lass smile. Perhaps she’d agree to dance if he put her in a good humor.

He made his way to the corner and stood a few steps in front of her. “Would you care to dance with me, my lady?” He had no idea whether she had a title but decided to play it safe.

He wanted to hear her voice, listen to the titter of her laughter, and bring out the smile in her eyes and her pouty lips.

He got naught.

She shook her head and looked over his shoulder, clearly dismissing him.

He would not be dismissed. “You choose to ignore the handsomest man in all the castle?”

Well, she certainly chose to ignore him, still staring over his shoulder.

“In all of the Highlands?”

She brought her gaze back to his and glared at him. “Please leave.”

He didn’t catch even one slight twitch of her lips or her cheekbones. Everyone else chuckled at his jests and teasing taunts. Why didn’t she?

“All right. You are correct, so I’ll admit it. ’Tis true that I am indeed the handsomest and strongest warrior in all of Scotland.”

Nothing.

“England? The world?”

Still nothing.

“Then I must be the ugliest man here.” Alick crossed his eyes, stuck his tongue out sideways and laughed, the sound