Highlander's Claim by Hildie McQueen

Author:Hildie McQueen [McQueen, Hildie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2013-08-08T05:00:00+00:00

The End

In the Warrior’s Arms

Chapter One

"I refuse to marry that devil!" Claire McLean rushed up the stairwell, her father fast on her heels. She slammed the chamber door and stomped to the bed to wait for him to burst through and lecture on her lack of respect.

Seconds turned into minutes. The laird did not come, nor did she hear his footsteps. Was something amiss? It wasn't like him to allow her to get the last word.

The sound of creaking made her heart pitch. Her father had finally come. She was sure he'd take drastic action at her behavior. Instead of the Laird of Clan McLean, her older sister Moira walked in.

She sat next to Claire and huffed impatiently. "Father is very cross with you. The only reason he did not come after you is because he was extremely tempted to beat you."

"He wouldn't dare hit me. Would he?" Claire looked to the slightly opened door and wondered if she should close it. "I am cross with him as well. It is horrible that he would marry me against my will. To one of the horrible McDougalls no less."

The ever-gentle Moira took her right hand with both of hers and patted it. "There is no choice, you must marry the McDougall's eldest son, Claire."

"I will not do it." Claire yanked her hand away and stood. "I will choose my own husband."

"You cannot. The clans have sealed the agreement. You must do as father asks."

"But you chose," Claire told her sister and moved to sit in a chair. "You chose your husband, therefore I should be allowed to do so as well."

With a breath Moira changed her tact. "Ian McDougall is a handsome man. He will be laird soon, as his father is very ill. You will be the laird's wife, hold a place of honor."

"Hmphf, I find him boring and quite proud. Not at all what I want in a husband."

"I found him pleasant, the last time he visited. What more could you possibly want, dear sister?"

This time it was Claire who took an overly dramatic breath, her lips curved and she held her hands over her heart. "I wish for a man with hair spun of gold, eyes so dark I will think myself looking to the night sky. Tall of stature, but not too broad, as I prefer a sleeker body on a man. His voice will be of a soothing timbre, which will be like honey to my senses. Oh, and he will be of an agreeable nature."

"Bah!" Moira giggled. "You'd slay a man of an agreeable nature. What you need, dear sister, is a strong hand."

Claire frowned but then relented and chuckled. "True. I would not like a simpering man. You are correct, Mo, a strong man who stands up to me, but is yet gentle with his ways."

"Darling sister, if such a man existed, then he'd come to you in a fairy mist," Moira scolded, shaking her head. "Now enough of this nonsense, sister, I came to help you pack.

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