One & Only

  One & Only

  Kara Griffin

  ONE & ONLY

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2012 Kara Griffin

  Cover Photo © 2012 NovelRomanceCovers.com. All rights reserved - used with permission.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book contains adult material, reader discretion advised.

  For my reader friends who love Scottish warriors

  as much as I do. Enjoy the Gunns.

  And for my family, whose never ending support

  allows me to do what makes me happy.

  OTHER HISTORICAL TITLES

  BY KARA GRIFFIN

  WARRIOR’S PLEDGE

  CLAIMED BY A CHARMER

  LASS’ VALOR

  SCI-FI ROMANCES

  COSMIC HEARTS

  COSMIC CHEMISTRY

  COSMIC CHAOS

  PRAISE FOR KARA GRIFFIN’S HISTORICALS

  WARRIOR’S PLEDGE is a touching story of two people who, after never having known

  love or happiness in their lives, learn to trust and to love, which in the end, gives them

  more happiness than they’d ever known existed. Don’t miss this touching tale.

  It is a definite keeper. Karen H. - The Romance Studio

  What I enjoyed about CLAIMED BY A CHARMER is it’s a story about finding

  the one person who makes you feel more alive than any other on the planet.

  The struggling relationship between Isabel and Douglas is passionate, amusing and the

  essence of true romance. They are both strong characters who have met their match and

  have to learn how to compromise in order to be together. Claimed by a Charmer also

  reinforces the fact that you can’t hide who you really are. That the one who loves you, loves

  you for who you are and not what you believed they want you to be. Claimed by a Charmer is

  charming, sweet and an enjoyable romantic read. Janet - Fallen Angel Reviews

  Ms. Griffin’s story LASS’ VALOR was impossible to put down. Her characters popped

  off the pages. The dialogue held me while not overpowering me with the Highland brogue

  and still grounded me within the time-period. The conflict between all the characters was

  strong and believable, adding richness to the setting. Definitely a historical not to be missed

  by Ms. Griffin’s fans or lovers of Highlander tales. Kimber - Coffee Time Romance

  PROLOGUE

  Winter Solstice

  Highlands Scotland, 1190

  The bairn wouldn’t be thrown out with the wash water if he had anything to do with it. He held the newborn babe in his arm and tucked his plaid around her to ward off the chill. The babe’s wail forced him slow his mount and reposition her more securely. He hoped none who journeyed with him heard her cries, because no one could know what he was about to do. As he rode toward the Mackay outbuildings, he knew he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t turn back now with the fief within sight.

  A man akin as he, had too many pressing responsibilities to care for such a wee one. For he had no means to keep her in his home. His wife would not welcome a bastard child, born of a common maid and nor would he ask that of her. Although he had a couple of bastards, who he kept watch over, he suspected his wife would raise holy hell were he to bring them home as he wanted.

  With him, a score of men from various clans rode along, protecting him as was his due. His goal of uniting the clans so he could concentrate on the greater mission of gaining back the northern lands Scotland had lost became difficult. There was much dissension these days. He hoped Ian Mackay welcomed those in his company, and if he did not, the guard would await him in yonder forest. He understood the alliances and treaties amongst the northern clans. Though he respected the issue against their enemies, he demanded reverence for his position. Mackay’s enemies were also his allies.

  A brisk wind blew, bringing a cold night this winter solstice. Not many celebrated outdoors; still various fires lit the hills. Smoke from cottage hearths filled the air with the scent of cooking and peat. His guard dispersed, several guardsmen employing their protection by the outer walls. Only his closest confidants and most trusted men awaited him by the main building.

  He reached the courtyard of the small fief where Ian lived and dismounted, giving the silent command to his guard to be vigilant. There by the door, his longtime friend met him at the entrance.

  “Your grace, you come. Join me inside and get warm. ‘Tis biting with chill this eve.” Ian Mackay stepped back, allowing he and his few followers inside.

  He stepped into the great hall and welcomed the warmth from the blazing hearth. He wasn’t sure how to ask Ian this favor, but his comrade was the only man he trusted with such a request.

  “You travel with unsavory company.” Ian waved a hand to a servant, who stepped forward, offering refreshment. He then motioned to all others to vacate the hall.

  “My men stay.” He nodded at the three men standing near the hearth. Two soldiers whose duty was to see to his protection, the younger lad, employed to see to whatever tasks he set him.

  With his hands full carrying the bairn, he shook his head and rejected the drink offer. “Best to keep your enemies close, Ian.”

  “Aye, so you can be stabbed in the back?” Ian gestured to a chair near the hearth and sat across from him. “I do not deem that wise, my lord.”

  “Nay, so I can learn their secrets and know when I am about to be set upon. I know you distrust the MacHeths and MacWilliams, Ian. I aim to give them opportunity to prove their fealty and loyalty. And if they do not …”

  Ian scratched his beard and grinned. “I doubt they will. I would not be so trusting. Still, you are welcome here with whatever company you wish to attend. My entire clan is on alert. They will be watched most cautiously whilst they are on my land.”

  At that moment, the bairn let out a hungry wail. He shifted the bundle in his lap and looked to Ian, unknowing how to placate the wee one.

  “What have ye there?”

  “’Tis my child, me daughter.” He exposed the babe and looked at the face of the angelic creature. Her shiny eyes met his and a small smile came to her tiny lips. She was lovely akin to her mama with tufts of blonde hair and eyes which would surely be as blue as the sky. He envisioned Katherine’s face, a sweeter woman never existed. How he would miss her.

  “Your child? Where is her mother?”

  He sighed when the bairn wailed louder and he then repositioned the babe to cradle her in his arms. “Died birthing the lass. I came because I need your aid. Is there a wet nurse here?”

  Ian stood and called forth a servant. “Nettie, fetch a wet nurse and tell my lady we have company. Be hasty.” He retook his seat and eyed him in stunned silence.

  “Ian, I cannot stay long. I came to seek your service. I need someone to keep the lass safe. She has no one save me and I … I have much to accomplish these days. My council advises me to secure the child before news of her birth absconds and causes senseless discord. Ears are rife for such news. My wife, though she politically strengthens us, would not welcome a bastard even if she be a lass. I doubt she’d care for a bairn not of her own and yet she hasn’t given me a legitimate heir.”

  “I see. Aye, her family relations do put ye in a tedious position.” Ian spired his fingers and drew them to his mouth.

  “My wife is the granddaughter of Henry and I would rather not give England cause to give us grief at present what with having to keep our lands secure
.”

  “Verily, ye should not trust the MacHeths or the MacWilliams, my lord. They scheme to recoup their lands and would oust ye as sure as I am laird to the Mackays. MacWilliam covets the crown and surely will go to any length to gain it.” Ian scowled at the meaning of his words, as did he.

  “His claim is null and it shall not come to pass. MacWilliam is the least of my problems. I am beset with political matters which outweigh his paltry claims.”

  Ian nodded, giving him an incredulous gaze as he caressed the tiny head of the babe. “She is a bonny bairn. Ye want care for her? We have many a clan who would gladly accept her.”

  “Nay, I want you to keep her, claim her as your own daughter. Raise her as a Mackay. Give her the life I cannot. I want her to be loved, Ian. Her mother was a worthy woman and I owe her that much, to assure her babe is well cared for.”

  “If that is your wish, your grace, then of course we shall be honored to call her daughter. My wife will probably shriek with joy. She is unable to bear more children and with our two almost grown, she misses caring for a wee one.”

  “Aye, your Maudie is a good mother, Ian. Your children are healthy and happy. ‘Tis all I can hope for the wee lass. I give her to you then. Let on not that she is mine. My enemies would think nothing of using the child against me. I won’t have me daughter endangered.” He held the babe out to his friend and felt the weight of his trouble lift from his shoulders when Ian took her.

  Several ladies entered the hall. Ian handed the babe to a woman who fussed over the bairn and left hastily. He watched his daughter disappear; her cries becoming distant, and a touch of woe came to him.

  “We shall care greatly for her and she shall be loved. Have no worry, my lord.”

  “I have no concern now, Ian, and thank ye. I shall reward you one day for your favor.” With his child secure, he settled into a chair and snatched the drink which had been offered earlier. “Now tell me of Highland news.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Five years later …

  Saint Swithin’s Day, 1201

  Peace would come to the Highlands on this momentous day.

  The weather was perfect, balmy even, considering how close they were to the coast. Mist usually swathed the shore with a cloak of gloom lending itself to those who lived there. Praised be, for there shall be more of this glorious weather if his Holiness, Saint Swithin’s bones were left alone. None wanted the forty days of rain henceforth, if the old saint was bothered. It seemed he was left to rest in his tomb on this bright sunny day.

  Joy reflected from the faces of both the Gunn and the Mackay clans. There was a time when neither clan would be seen with any member of the other. Many clansmen would rather brawl until there was enough blood or bruises to show for their effort than be seen with their enemy. This day, all strife was set aside for prosperity. Though the elders loved to war, old grudges were far too insignificant to let come between two of the most powerful clans in the Highlands. Each clan held their enemies at bay, though most lived within a stone’s throw of their lands. Keeping peace was a never-ending battle and weighed heavily on King William.

  The Mackays and the Gunns celebrated the joining of the two clans, uniting them in a betrothal and setting in place a long-standing truce. A truce moreover coveted by King William himself, who attended the lively celebration. His presence assured the cooperation of the Gunns and Mackays. This was the first step in gaining peace of the northern clans and bringing tranquility to the realm. The fete was a long time in coming, according to the Highland Council.

  If the Gunns and the Mackays came to an alliance, most of the clans would follow suit and peace would reign once more throughout the land. King William wanted all his people’s devotion and support. He had enough problems with the lowlanders, and didn’t need to worry about those who lived a world away far up north.

  No one was certain why the war between the Gunns and the Mackays began; for it happened before many of the members were alive to witness the atrocities. Fortunately, the Gunn’s land didn’t border Mackay’s, but they had a sort of ally of the clan sitting between them. The Ross clan attended the festivities to bear witness that the truce came to pass.

  Though other clans who weren’t so resigned to the joining, planned and plotted against his majesty. The opposition swore one day to take matters into their own hands and refute William’s right to rule. With their plan enacted, all they needed to do was cause a wee bit of dissension to bring about the cooperation of the northern clans. Only then, could they take back the crown and give it to the rightful ruler.

  It was a fine day for a celebration since all honored Saint Swithin. The clans prepared for the feast, each making food to share, and set up games for the children. One child in particular was excited for the festivities to begin. She ran betwixt clan members, almost knocking a few off their feet in her jubilation. Though the wee lass had no idea the importance of the day’s events, she was too caught up in all the attention she received. Aye, they spoiled her and their future would be froth with difficulties. None believed ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ when it came to that particular lass.

  Grey Gunn knew Albrey would be excited, and as was his da’s directive, he was put in charge of seeing to it that she didn’t hurt herself or misbehave. Albrey Mackay just turned five summers and looked like a sweet angel, but Grey knew the truth. She was no angel, but a faerie sent to torment him. Faeries were nuisances who caused havoc, and someone Grey’s age didn’t have time to be so patient.

  In the weeks past, he’d watched her get into mischief time and again. The sweet lass’ long springy golden curls swayed as she ran to chase a stable cat and startled one of the soldier’s horses. Grey had his hands full, and still, he wouldn’t disobey his da’s command. He’d watch over her, assuring she was kept safe during the celebration. It wasn’t an easy task for one of only ten winters, but he’d do his best.

  Grey knew the importance of the day’s event, and what Albrey meant to both clans. She was his one and only, the only woman he was destined to care for. Albrey was pretty with her long flowing hair and shining bright blue eyes. But Grey didn’t take notice of such things; for a lad his age only cared about who could spit the farthest or who ran faster. Lassies were not so important. Despite the fact that he had been told his duty, he would follow orders.

  Though Grey’s role within the Gunn clan was of most import, he would become laird one day. Everyone treated him as they’d treated all the lads in the clan. Warriors often teased younger lads and played pranks on them, entertaining themselves at their whim. Grey wanted to run and practice swords with the other lads, but he also knew his duty. Besides, he was far better at swordplay than the rest of the lads his age and he had to put aside foolish, childish wants. He might as well watch over the faerie he’d be betrothed to later this day.

  Albrey chased after a baby goat, who barely escaped capture by his small horns. In her pursuit, she sang in the most angelic voice: “Saint Swithin's day if thou dost rain, for forty days ‘twill remain …”

  If she caught the poor goat, she would ride the animal and cause a ruckus loud enough to reach the heavens. God help him then, because they’d both be punished. With that, Grey ran at break-neck speed to get her to stop chasing the animal.

  What he needed was a diversionary tactic. He sang the next verse: “Saint Swithin's day if thou be fair, for forty days 'twill rain nay more.” But the lass didn’t heed him nor join in the rest of the song.

  Her squeals of laughter sounded when she ran behind a tree.

  “Albrey, lass, look,” he said, pointing at a butterfly behind the smithy’s hut. She immediately made an about-face turn and started in his direction. Now it was Grey’s turn to be chased. She could never catch him because he was far too fast for a slip of lass like her.

  As they ran toward the hut, Grey dropped on a patch of soft grass adjacent to a tent and rolled to his back laughing. Albrey wouldn’t be thwarted though. As soon as she reached him, she pounce
d. Grey all but had the air taken from his lungs by the force of her wee body hitting his chest.

  Grey pushed her off and shoved her face in the grass for a second or two, just to teach her a well-needed lesson. She squealed with laughter, but he wouldn’t have mercy. Albrey tried to kick him, yet he was able to keep her from fleeing by holding on to her ankle.

  “Och, Grey, let the lass up.” His da lifted his cup, his eyes merrily watching their play. Laird Gunn, a seasoned, hardened warrior didn’t often look so content. He always attended clan business and took a serious manner. As was the case this day, his father sat with other laird’s discussing political matters.

  For a moment, Grey admired the look on his da’s face. Grey did bear a resemblance to his da, given he had the same almost-black hair and cool gray eyes. Many a christening had been delayed because the priory had a fire when he’d been born. His eyes hadn’t changed by the time they got around to christening him, and his ma had said she’d chosen his name because of the color of his eyes.

  One day he would be as strong as his da, a warrior who could defeat any enemy. His ma remarked how tall he’d gotten in the last months and that he would soon have muscles to rival his father’s. He wanted to be as strong as his da.

  “You’ll make the lass piss if ye don’t cease tickling her,” came from Albrey’s mama, sitting next to his very own. “Albrey, are ye behaving? You aren’t tormenting poor Grey, are ye?”

  “Oh, nay, Mama, I’ve been good.” Once her mother turned back to the adults, Albrey set her teeth on a target.

  Grey smiled at his future wife’s family and didn’t pay her any mind. Albrey was fair-skinned like her ancestors and certainly not sweet-tempered. Her ancestors, like his, came on massive boats, bringing their people to a new land. Intent to raid and return to their homeland, most had stayed on, content to live on the lush lands of Scotland for all their days.