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  HIGHLAND GRACE

  by

  K.E. Saxon

  HIGHLAND GRACE : Book Two : Highlands Trilogy

  The second in the Highlands Trilogy, HIGHLAND GRACE begins where HIGHLAND VENGEANCE ended, giving you Bao and Jesslyn’s story.

  Set in the turn of the 13th century Scottish Highlands. When widow and devoted mother to a five-year-old, Jesslyn MacCreary, discovers her brief encounter with her laird’s long-lost brother has resulted in an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, she is thrust into matrimony with its exotically handsome, angry, and seemingly unwilling, father.

  Bao Xiong Maclean, by day, a contracted warrior for William, King of Scots, and by night, a lover for hire to the pampered ladies of the king’s court, is fighting his attraction to the lovely flaxen-haired widow whose family is the reason he and his mother became slaves to the man who sired him: Jamison Maclean.

  Don’t miss the excerpt of

  HIGHLAND MAGIC, Book Three in the Highlands Trilogy

  at the end of this book

  Smashwords Edition

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  Highland Grace

  Copyright © 2008 by K.E. Saxon

  http://www.kesaxon.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author K.E. Saxon, the copyright owner and publisher of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the publisher. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in its work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover obtained from Romance Novel Covers

  * * * *

  Acknowledgements

  I am eternally grateful to a wonderful new Welsh writer friend, Elin Gregory, who kindly and generously supplied the phonetic pronunciations of two of the Welsh terms in my glossary. This, after many long, hair-pulling months of trying to find them on my own. Thank you again, Elin!!

  K.E. Saxon

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The twelfth and thirteenth century Scottish Highlands is a fascinating time in history. Although much is known, there is still much that remains in shadow and supposition. The old laws of succession, and the old Celtic systems were mixing with the new feudal systems brought in by the Norman-influenced kings of Scots (the first key figure in this being David I, who became king of Scots in 1124).

  Although, by the time of William the Lion (William I), who ruled Scotland from 1165 to 1214, the feudal systems were more firmly established in the southern region of Scotland, the king had managed to exert his influence and sway in the wilder northern and western regions as well. Mostly through alliances with foreigners to whom he chartered land, or to natives who sought a royal charter for their land in order to secure it for their own offspring.

  My vision, therefore, was of a kind of “melting pot.” The old ways, not completely abandoned, yet the new coming to be embraced.

  Although I did many, many (many) months of research into this time in the Scottish Highlands history, I still found it necessary to take some creative license on certain aspects in order to fulfill my vision for the romance, and allow for less confusion to the romance reader. I won’t list the licenses I took, but hope that the history purists will close an eye to these instances and simply enjoy the tale.

  K.E. Saxon

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  GLOSSARY

  Alban Eiler all-ben A-ler: The feast of the vernal equinox. Lit.: Light of the earth

  crwth krooth : an ancient Celtic musical instrument with the strings stretched over a rectangular frame, played with a bow.

  Cymru kumree : Welsh for ‘Wales’

  Hogmanay hog-muh-ney : The eve of New Year’s Day

  kraken krah-kuhn : According to Viking legend, a sea monster large enough to swallow a whole boat

  Matins 'mætinz : Morning prayers at sunrise

  Pencerdd Penkerth : the chief poet in a welsh court

  penteulu pentaylee : head of Prince Llywelyn ap Iorwerth’s uchelwyr teulu, his noble warriors

  Sext sekst : The fourth of the seven canonical hours, or the service for it, originally fixed for the sixth hour of the day taken as noon.

  Terce turs : The third of the seven canonical hours of the divine office, originally fixed at the third hour of the day, about 9 a.m.

  uisge beatha ishka beyha: Lit: ‘Water of Life’, a.k.a. whiskey

  Uphalieday Up-helly-a: January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany, a.k.a. ‘Twelfth Night’.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Note

  Glossary

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  HIGHLAND MAGIC EXCERPT

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  Perth, The Highlands, Scotland 1204

  “Relax and let me love you.”

  “Aye,” she murmured between the hot, wet kisses she blazed across his neck and chest.

  Through the slits of his half-opened eyes, he watched her. Watched as her gloriously blushed breasts bounced in time to his rhythm, as her nipples grew ever more tightly wound.

  He bent forward and greedily sucked one of them into his mouth. She climaxed instantly, the undulating walls of her taut canal squeezing and caressing him as they milked him into a long release as well. At its peak, he arched his back and choked out, “Oh, God!” as the head of his erupting sex rammed against her womb, flooding it with his hot seed.

  * * *

  Bao woke with a start and sat up, rubbing the base of his palms against his eyes. He wiped the sticky discharge off of his belly and thigh with the wool blanket before tossing it aside, feeling like a callow youth, surging with carnal urges so intense that he spewed seed as he slept. But the dream had been vivid, his mind’s perfect reflection of his and the flaxen-haired goddess’s only time together. Even now, over two moons later, he could almost taste her on his tongue.

  After rising, he walked to the wash basin and poured water from the earthen pitcher into its base. He pulled the top portion of his long, straight black hair back and tied it with a leather thong and scrubbed his stubbled face with the cold water. After drying it with a cloth, he took up the silver platter he used as a
mirror and began his morning shave.

  He lit a candle and looked at his reflection. The image he saw was haggard and sad. His eyes were red from lack of sleep the past few nights; the green flecks in his umber eyes, a direct contrast. They were puffy as well, causing them to have a more pronounced slant. He ran the sharpened knife against the edge of his jaw, nicking the place next to the dent in his chin. “Ouch! Dammit.”

  Stop thinking about her! Her family profited from your mother’s enslavement!

  A knock sounded on the door and Bao called out, “Enter!” relieved at the interruption.

  “A missive just arrived for you, sire, from the King” his servant said and handed the scroll to him.

  “My thanks,” Bao said absently, unfurling the parchment as the man departed. Another assignment, no doubt.

  As his eyes scanned the words, his heart began to speed. ‘Twas a demand that he escort one of the ladies of the court as far as his brother’s holding so that her husband could meet her there and escort her the rest of the way home, along with a proposal that he remain there with his family through the coming holy days, if he so desired.

  He’d sworn a vow to himself not to return to that holding—at least not until his brother found a suitable husband for their sister. But, as a soldier and liege to William, King of Scots, he had little choice in the matter.

  His fate set, he gathered his belongings, arranged his affairs and set his course for the Maclean holding. Only long enough to transfer the lady into her husband’s hands, he told himself, and tell his brother what he’d learned about Jesslyn’s kin as well. He’d stay clear of the flaxen-haired widow. Well clear.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 1

  The Maclean Holding, The Highlands, Scotland 1204

  Jesslyn MacCreary sat with her hands tightly clasped and pressed firmly into her lap as she received the interrogation by her good friend and protector, Laird Daniel MacLaurin, chieftain to both the MacLaurin and Maclean clans.

  “Who did this to you? I demand to know!” he shouted and then continued without waiting for an answer, “‘Twas my cousin, Callum MacGregor, was it not? It had to be.” He turned and stormed across the room a few paces, running his hand through his already tousled auburn hair, before turning back to Jesslyn.

  “Nay, ‘twas not Callum,” she replied in low tones.

  “Thank Christ for that, since he’s been wed to the daughter of Laird Gordon these past moons. Who then? One of my Maclean warriors? The man will wed you and make this babe lawful, I swear it.”

  “It makes no difference who the father is. And I’m perfectly capable of raising this bairn on my own, you needn’t worry,” she replied with more confidence than she actually felt.

  “Aye, it matters. It matters a great deal. The clan elders may insist on banishing you, tho’ my grandmother and I will not let that come to pass.” Daniel walked over to the stool across from her and sat down. Leaning forward, he placed his hands over her clenched fists and said, “Now, tell me who did this to you, Jesslyn. No more delaying.”

  Realizing he’d not relent until she’d given him the information he was seeking and seeing the worry in his familiar green eyes, she finally said, “‘Twas one of the traveling minstrels—a one-time encounter. And there’s no need for you to worry; I’m resigned to my situation—in fact, I revel in it.” She rose and stepped toward the hearth. Keeping her back turned to Daniel, she clasped her hands at her waist and twisted her fingers together. Not a complete falsehood, she told her chiding conscience. Her gaze dropped to the rapid pulse of her guilty heart beating in her wrist. Aye, but not the complete truth, either, it answered back.

  She felt the weight of his gaze on her as he said, “Nay, I’ve known you for too many years not to see through your charade. ’Twas not a traveling player, Jesslyn. But I shall plague you no further about his identity, at least for the moment.”

  She turned back to him with a nod of relief.

  “I’m not surprised to hear that you’re glad at the prospect of a babe; after all, you’ve craved more bairns for a long time now. In fact, ‘twas one of the reasons you agreed to wed me.”

  “Aye, well, you’re well-wed to Maryn now.”

  “The threat of a clan war and much needed profits from shipping saw to that.”

  Jesslyn nodded. “Not such a hardship, I trow,” she teased, though her heart wasn’t truly in it.

  Daniel smiled and that calmed her. “Nay, not at all, as Maryn is my one and true mate,” he said.

  Taking a deep breath, Jesslyn closed her eyes and forced herself to tell Daniel the plan she’d been formulating since suspecting her condition several sennights past. “I think it best that Alleck and I leave here and go back to the MacLaurin holding. I can easily say that I’ve been widowed once again,” she said hopefully. Peeking back over her shoulder, she continued, “You know that they’ll believe me—my good character is well known to them.” Embarrassed by the subject, she dipped her head and regarded her nerveless hands once more, saying softly, “They’d never think to suspect that the bairn was conceived outside of wedlock. And you did bring me here with the clear purpose of finding a husband for me.”

  “Aye, but how do you suppose you’ll support your bairns if you return there? On your ale-making?”

  Irritated at the derogatory tone in his voice, she turned fully to face him again. Placing her hands on her hips, she said, “Aye, why not? ‘Tis a good profession.”

  “Aye, if ‘twere your only choice. But ‘tis not. What of my vow to your husband as he lay dying on the field of battle? That I’d take care of the two of you, that I’d see that Alleck was trained to be a warrior when the time came?” Daniel shook his head. “Nay, Maryn and I think it best that you and Alleck move up to the keep and reside with us under our full protection, at least until the babe is born. And my grandmother is in full agreement.”

  Jesslyn turned back to gaze at the crackling flames in the hearth as she considered the arrangement. ‘Twas so like Maryn, with her generous nature, to want to protect them from censure. Jesslyn was still amazed that she and Daniel’s wife had become such good friends, especially considering their troubled beginning. But having the support of Lady Maclean as well, the grandmother of the babe’s father, left Jesslyn with an even heavier feeling of guilt for denying that lady her great-grandchild. Could she live under the same roof as the older woman and continue to withhold that knowledge? She didn’t know if she could. But she owed it to her late husband’s memory to do as he wished and keep their son under Daniel’s guardianship, which, ultimately, forced her decision. “Aye, that seems a good solution.” Turning back to Daniel, she continued, “And this, you believe, will bolster your defense against my banishment?”

  “Aye, it will. In fact, your possessions should be transferred up there forthwith. I shall send several servants down here to retrieve them as soon as you have them packed and ready. Since your condition is not yet known to anyone other than the four of us, we have some time to get you settled before I take the information to the clan elders.”

  “I just wish that I’d had a bit more time before my situation was discovered,” Jesslyn said.

  “You may wish it, but ‘tis glad I am that I found out now rather than later. At least I have some time to deal with the clan before your condition is apparent. Just think how much worse ‘twould have been had one of the other clan members realized the truth behind your squeamish behavior of late before Maryn did,” Daniel replied. “Will you at least tell me when you expect this babe to arrive? And please do not lie to me again. ‘Twill do no good, as I shall figure it out on my own in a few sennights’ time anyway, if only by the signs you give.”

  Seeing the truth in that, Jesslyn gave him the answer he sought. “I expect the babe around the time of Bealltainn.”

  Daniel nodded and by the look of surety in his eye, he was no doubt still believing ‘twas Callum’s bairn she carried. Thankfully, he made no further queries, simply rose and walked toward
the door. After opening it, he turned back to her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he gave her a penetrating look before saying, “You’ll have an hour’s time to get everything packed and ready to be moved up to the keep. I shall go to Niall’s house to retrieve Alleck and then I shall tell him that we wanted the two of you to live there with us. That should suffice until you are able to explain your condition to him.”

  Jesslyn started at the sound of the door slamming shut. He was still angry, it seemed. Sighing, she walked toward her bedchamber, her mind swirling with disjointed thoughts. Thoughts of packing her things and moving to the keep. Thoughts of the reception she’d receive and the questions she was sure to have to answer, shrouded in half-truths. Thoughts of her babe. Thoughts of its father.

  She absently felt for the foreign coin that resided around her neck on a leather thong. ‘Twas the one Bao’s mother had given him as a bairn, he’d told her. Jesslyn had kept it hidden under her clothing and cradled between her breasts next to her heart ever since she’d found it under her pillow the morning he departed for Perth late last summer. A parting memento from her unborn babe’s father—tho’ he’d certainly not known of her condition at the time, as he’d left within mere sennights of their interlude.