MacGregor's Daughter_A Scottish Historical Romance by Gwyn Brodie

Author:Gwyn Brodie [Brodie, Gwyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Scottish Highlands, Scotland, Highlanders, Highland Romance, Scottish Historical Romance
Amazon: B07B798FMX
Publisher: Gwyn Brodie
Published: 2018-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

IN THE GREAT HALL OF Kilchurn Castle, Lyall downed his third goblet of ale, and the new servant girl quickly refilled it. She was a pretty young thing, with big dark eyes that never looked directly at him. He reached out, wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and pulled her onto his lap, then squeezed one of her firm round breasts.

"Please, m'laird," she begged, struggling to get up, which only served to heighten his desire.

"Please you I will, lass," he said loudly, eliciting a roar of laughter from those sitting within hearing distance. His need intensified as he slipped his hand beneath her skirts and up her long legs. He groaned inwardly. If he did not satisfy his lust soon, he might very well make a fool of himself.

Sitting across from him at the high table, Ellen, his brother's widow frowned. "Leave the lass be. You're frightening her, and you're frightening Mairi."

Mairi, his fourteen-year-old niece, sat beside her mother, her gaze fastened on the table.

"Cease your infernal blathering, woman," he told his sister-in-law, even though he knew it would do no good.

She snorted and got to her feet. "Lyall Campbell, you treat every woman you see as if she were a whore. Now, let her go!"

"Woman, you dinnae order me about." He turned his attention back to the servant girl. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes shimmered with tears. She was more than likely an innocent, which much pleased him. It had been a long while since he bedded a virgin, and he did not mean to wait any longer.

Keeping an arm tightly about her waist, he rose from the table and headed for the stairs. She stumbled along beside him, shrieking at the top of her lungs. But before he was able to haul her off to his bedchamber and have his way with her, Dougal entered the castle.

His nephew frowned. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Lyall raised a brow and smirked. "If I need to tell you, lad, you're even less of a man than I thought you to be."

His nephew's hands balled into fists. "Let Ileen go." He took a step forward.

Lyall laughed. "You just want her for yourself. I've seen the way you watch the lass. Once I'm finished with her, you're welcome to her." He was ready to slice the whoreson's throat for his interruption, even if Dougal was his own flesh and blood.

"Turn her loose, now," he growled through clenched teeth as he took another step toward Lyall.

"You dinnae get to tell me what to do," he chortled, sizing up the lad, wondering when Dougal had become taller than him. The muscles of his nephew's arms and chest strained against the fabric of his linen shirt. Lyall was certain he could still beat the hell out of him, but decided against it. He shoved the girl to the floor and walked away, ignoring the surprised whispers and stares of his men, as he returned to his seat at the high table.

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