Excerpt of Highland Beast by Amy Jarecki

Excerpt from HIGHLAND BEAST

The time was nigh. In the next moments, their lives would be changed forever. Their fates decided by a man Rhona’s granduncle hated to the depths of his soul.

The blackened-iron latch rattled.

Rhona tensed, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

The hinges screeched loudly enough to be heard all the way to the cottage in the village that Rhona shared with her grandmother.

Dear God.

As the door swung open, nothing could have prepared her to meet the deadly stare of Arthur Campbell.

Arthur. Campbell.

It wasn’t Robert the Bruce whose broad shoulders filled the doorway as he marched into the hall. No. Rhona stared into the black and soulless eyes of the one man she cared to never again see.

Bloodied, a helm tucked in the crook of one elbow, he wore a surcoat atop his mail, covered with so much dirt and splattered blood, she could not make out the coat of arms. His weapons clanged as he strode forward, flanked by a bevy of grisly soldiers. His eyes, as piercing as a golden eagle’s, widened as recognition filled them. The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he shifted his gaze to Bram. “His Grace, Robert the Bruce has laid claim to this fortress for the Kingdom of Scotland. We require an audience with the Lord of Lorn forthwith.”

Though the man sounded as cold as his heart, Rhona bucked up her nerve and stepped forward to assert her authority. “His Lordship is not here.”

Arthur’s lips disappeared into a thin line while those eyes shifted her way. “Where might we find him?”

No matter how disarming this man’s gaze, Rhona refused to allow the cur to affect her. She had been a foolish child once, thinking herself in love with the dark and handsome man from the neighboring clan, but she’d learned of his true nature after he’d disappeared without a word, as if the love they’d shared had been nothing but a tryst. After an entire summer of secret meetings and stolen kisses, Arthur had not even bothered to write.

“Once word came of the Bruce’s massacre at the Pass of Brander, His Lordship had no alternative but to rise from his sickbed and flee.” Rhona held up the missive and glanced to the clansmen and women behind her. The souls gathered deserved to know what it contained, no matter how much it sickened her to utter it. “My granduncle asked me to deliver this to the Bruce. ’Tis a letter acknowledging the defeat of Clan MacDougall and granting the king Dunstaffnage and her surrounds.”

While gasps echoed throughout the hall, it nearly cut Rhona to the quick to refer to the man as king, and she crossed her fingers behind her back for good measure.

Arthur inclined his head to a formidable knight wearing full armor, who stepped forward and removed his helm. “I am Robert Bruce, king of Scots, and I come in peace.” He said nothing as he panned his gaze across the hall. “I ken the MacDougall of all clans question my right to rule, and I’ll tell ye here and now, I did slay John Comyn, kin of the MacDougall, at Greyfriars Kirk, but only after he betrayed me to Edward the Longshanks. Only after he testified, naming me as a traitor so that he could be king. Let it be known I did not kill him in cold blood. It was he who struck first, though I was the man who struck last. The church has absolved me of sin, and now I ask the same of you.”

Rhona did not believe a word.

The Bruce handed his helm to Arthur and spread his gauntlet-clad hands. “I desire peace throughout the Kingdom of Scotland, but hear me now, I will condemn any man who destroys what I, my lords, and knights are trying to build. Right here and now I give you my solemn oath, Scotland will be free from the yoke of tyranny. We must send the usurpers along our borders back from whence they came. We will be successful. We will again be a sovereign nation, ruled by one king and not a man sitting on a throne in London; a foreign king who cares nothing for Scotland’s subjects. Moreover, we need strong men and women like yourselves to support our cause.”

With the man’s every word, Rhona’s skin grew hotter. Aye, he spoke well, like a nobleman ought, but how could he believe a few words uttered might erase all the damage done? Her hand shook as she held out the missive.

The Bruce didn’t smile but gave a sharp nod as he took it. “My thanks, ah…”

“Mistress Rhona,” said Bram. “Lorn’s grandniece, and nearest relative in the hall as his sister is infirm. Might I add the lady speaks for His Lordship in his stead.”

“I see.”

As the man opened the letter and read, Rhona chanced a glance at Arthur, then immediately shifted her gaze away. Good heavens, he’d caught her glimpse. And how dare he stare? Having the Campbell man in her presence was almost as unsavory as hosting the king. It was apt the pair of them had cast their lots together.

His Grace refolded the letter and looked to Cook. “My men will take their respite here for the night and will require food and drink. I hereby appoint Sir Arthur Campbell as constable of Dunstaffnage. He will be responsible…”

Holy everlasting perdition, Rhona didn’t hear another word.

Arthur was to be constable? That meant he would not be marching with the Bruce’s army. That meant he’d be nearby. Indefinitely. Her stomach roiled with thousands of butterflies, or horseflies, she wasn’t sure which.

Sir Arthur. When had he earned his spurs?

Could things grow worse?