Excerpt of Highland Hearts by Hannah Howell

Chapter One Scotland, 1455 "Come to gloat, have ye?" "I beg your pardon?" Tess asked, surprised. It took a moment for her to still the alarmed beating of her heart. The man's deep rich voice had scared her half to death. She had passed through her uncle's dungeons earlier and it had been empty. Cautiously, she edged closer to the cell, thrusting her candle forward to shed some fight into the shadowy recesses of the prison. She gasped. Chained spread-eagle to the wall was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Even his bruises, blood, and dirt did not dim his handsomeness. Then she frowned. There was something familiar about the blond giant there, glaring back at her. "When did you get here?" she asked. Revan frowned. The piquant little face pressed to the bars was not the face he had expected to see. Neither were the big dark eyes, wide with surprise. He wondered if Fergus Thurkettle was playing some kind of game. For the moment he would play along. "Oh, I just strolled by near to two hours ago." "And decided to nap amongst the iron chains, hmmm?" " 'Tis cleaner than that bed o'er there." Glancing at the rat-gnawed cot in the corner, she silently agreed. What was her uncle up to now? Uncle Fergus, she mused, carried his pretensions to being lord and master of all he surveyed a little too far. It was no longer just a slight eccentricity; it had become an obsession and it was chilling. "Ye would not say so if ye kenned what was hanging there just last week," she said lightly. "Aye? Who was it?" "Oh, some skinny man who hadna discovered the benefit of a wee bit of soap and water." "What happened to him?" "There is a funny thing. I dinna ken." She had some dark theories but decided to keep them to herself. "I saw him here, weeping like a bairn. From what little I could learn he hadna committed a crime. I decided I would let him out, but I had to get the keys. By the time I got back--he was gone." "So swiftly?" "W-well, it wasna quite so swiftly. It took two days. I couldna just take the keys, for that would be noticed. So I talked to Iain, the blacksmith. He wasna easy to persuade, but I finally got him to make me a set. By the time I got the keys, the wee man was gone." "Where do ye think he went?" "I dinna ken. Dinna ken why he was here or why he suddenly wasna here. And, now, just why are ye here?" "Ah, it seems I tried to reach beyond my station." She noticed the bitterness tainting his fine voice, but she did not really understand what he was referring to. Her uncle, while an unreasonable man, had never locked someone up for that before. Then Tess slowly grasped the thread of an idea, one she did not like much at all. "Oh, were ye sniffing round Brenda, then?" "Sniffing round? I was courting her." More or less, he mused but was not about to confess to this chit. Hand in hand with cuddling up to the voluptuous Brenda Thurkettle had been his spying. "And that is why ye are hanging up in there?" There were a few times when she had contemplated similar punishments for the men who had courted Brenda. "Aye." He felt only a small twinge of guilt over that half- truth, then wondered why he even felt that. Some madman had chained him to a wall, and now some curious girl was watching him. There was little doubt in his mind that Thurkettle meant to murder him. He should feel no guilt at all over lying through his teeth if it got him out of this mess. Yet, something about those huge dark eyes made him feel guilty. He told himself not to be such a fool. "Well, that is a sad and foolish reason to hang a man up like a gutted deer," Tess said, deciding her uncle had finally lost what tenuous grip he might have had on sanity. "He shouldna shackle a man for having the poor taste and judgment to pursue a woman like Brenda," she murmured, reaching into a pocket in her doublet to fiddle with her keys. Revan almost laughed. Brenda Thurkettle was blue-eyed, auburn haired, and had a form to make any man alive ache with lust. No one would accuse a man of poor taste for pursuing a woman like that. Except, he mused with an inner chuckle, another woman. Or, he thought an instant later, someone who knew the person beneath the beauty. Revan began to wonder about the woman he was talking to. "Are ye meaning to free me?" "Well... are ye sure 'tis all ye did? Court the regal Brenda?" " 'Tis all and naught more. Did ye expect some heinous crime like robbery or murder or something?" She shrugged, slowly tugging her keys out of her pocket. "It can grow rather tedious hereabouts." His gaze fixed upon the keys. "Ye live here?" It did not really surprise her that he did not know her, but she was growing weary of being consistently unnoticed. "Aye, I am Tess, the niece. I have lived here nearly five years." She stared at him, contemplating. "I remember you now. I saw ye strolling about with our Mistress Brenda, taking her for a wee ride upon those matched horses. Verra nice. Was that a new doublet?" "Aye, it was. Well?" He gently shook the chains attached to his wrists and ankles. "Dinna rush me, I am thinking." She rubbed her chin with one hand. "Ye are the manservant to that fat laird, Angus MacLairn. Aye, that wouldna please Uncle. Howbeit, if ye owned MacLairn's keep--" "Are ye intending to let me out of here or not?" "Oh, dinna fash yourself." She set her candle down and unlocked the cell door. "Here now." She brought her candle into the cell and set it down on a small wobbly table by the cot. "Ye werena caught in flagrante delicto with Her Highness Brenda or the like, were ye?" She was not sure she ought to free a man awaiting a forced wedding even if Brenda cast her favors to nearly every man for miles about. "In what?" "Ye ken what I mean--mucking about, tussling, rolling in the heather. I dinna care to set myself into the midst of that sort of trouble.”