The Thorn & the Thistle Read online

  The Thorn & the Thistle

  By Julie Moffett

  Scotland, 1751

  The MacLeods are a strong clan, united with their fellow Scots to resist English rule. But when their leader, the Black Wolf, is struck down in battle, it is up to his daughter to keep the rebellion alive. Megan knows she must act quickly or risk losing the fight for their ancestral lands. Desperate, she secretly assumes the Black Wolf’s mantle, fooling their enemies into thinking he’s still alive. If she can keep going for a bit longer, the clan’s future will be secure…

  Rolf St. James has been sent by the king to settle the Scottish lands once and for all. He’s not about to let a woman get in his way, no matter how desirable he finds her. He must put aside his attraction and fulfill his duty to permanently quell the rebellion, regardless of the cost.

  Rolf represents everything her father hated, everything she’s been fighting against. But as the days pass and Rolf’s code of honor reveals itself, Megan finds it’s not so easy to hate him anymore. Can she risk her people’s future for a chance at personal happiness?

  Previously published, newly refreshed.

  81,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  In the world of publishing, January is an intimidating month. Mostly because we’re thinking about 2013 long before we want to be. In fact, conversations about 2014 have long since started. How’s that for intimidating? January is also intimidating because we’re expected to set goals and promise great things for the year ahead. That, Carina Press can handle.

  This year, our goal is not only to continue to provide readers with excellent editorial, but also to add a new category of New Adult to our romance line, in order to increase the number of mystery, science-fiction and fantasy titles we publish; to publish returning authors with connected books; and to grow our romance subgenres such as historical romance, GLBT, romantic suspense and erotic romance. You can look forward to all of that happening in 2013!

  In January, we start the year by finishing up Shannon Stacey’s second Kowalski family trilogy with the highly anticipated story of Josh and Katie’s romance, All He Ever Dreamed. If you haven’t read Shannon’s books, you can check out the original Kowalski trilogy for only $4.99 per novel. We also enter 2013 with the paperback release of Fiona Lowe’s 2012 RITA® award-winning contemporary romance, Boomerang Bride.

  Other contemporary romance authors joining Shannon in January include Rachael Johns, kicking off a new contemporary series set in Hollywood with Stand-In Star, and Liz Flaherty with Jar of Dreams. Liz’s debut romance, One More Summer, was described by reviewers as “compelling and addictive” and “one incredible story.”

  On the other end of the romance spectrum are several paranormal, urban fantasy and steampunk romance releases this month. Coleen Kwan returns with the sequel to her fun steampunk romance Asher’s Invention. Asher’s Dilemma brings you the continued romance of Asher and Minerva in a clockwork world.

  Two other continuing series return with fantastic installments. Claws Bared by Sheryl Nantus is the next story in her Blood of the Pride series. And Sandy James offers up The Impetuous Amazon, the second book in the Alliance of the Amazons series. Meanwhile, a new paranormal trilogy begins with Stacy Gail’s Nobody’s Angel, which brings us a tale of Nephilim and sassy heroines. Look for the second book, Savage Angel, in February.

  Cathy Pegau takes us into space with her newest science-fiction romance, Caught in Amber, while Eleri Stone takes us to a world steeped in fantasy and wrapped with pleasure in Threads of Desire, her erotic fantasy romance. Keeping us in the here and now, with more erotic sexy-times, is Callie Croix’s newest erotic contemporary romance, Covert Seduction.

  We’re pleased to welcome mystery author Wendy Roberts to Carina Press with her newest mystery, Grounds to Kill. We’re also pleased that Julie Moffett has chosen to reissue her Scottish historical romance, The Thorn & the Thistle, with us in January.

  Last, to start off 2013, I’m excited to introduce you to our two debut authors. JL Merrow offers up a compelling tale of love through the ages with the male/male historical time travel Trick of Time. Romantic suspense author Ana Barrons will blow away fans of suspense and romance with her debut novel, Wrongfully Accused. Please join me in giving these two authors a warm welcome to Carina Press (by buying their books, of course!).

  I hope you’ll join me for another excellent year of books at Carina Press. Our 2013 schedule is shaping up to be full of books our team loves and can’t wait to get into readers’ hands, including a new trilogy from Fiona Lowe; a compulsively readable new adult romance, Rush Me, from debut author Alison Parr; the last two parts of Jax Garren’s dark Beauty and the Beast retelling; more contemporary romance novels from up-and-coming author Christi Barth; the kick­off of a thrilling urban fantasy series from debut author Steve Vera; more erotic romance compliments of Lynda Aicher; a series of erotic Love Letters from a collection of authors; noir historical mystery Die on Your Feet by debut author S.G. Wong; and another installment of Marie Force’s romantic suspense series.

  This is only a small portion of the amazing books we have coming up in 2013, so please look for these and more from the awesomely talented Carina Press authors.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Glen Grudie Scottish Highlands

  November 1751

  Megan MacLeod hurried across the snow-covered ground, her long skirts swirling around her boot-clad legs. The wind howled through the pine trees, snatching the breath from her lungs and causing the wool plaid of green, blue and yellow to stream out behind her. As she reached the bank of the frozen loch, she paused, drawing the plaid across her face and trying to shield her skin from the bitter cold.

  Bracing her lambskin boot against a large boulder, she listened to the sounds of the wintry glen, the fierce whistle of the wind and the groan of the barren branches heavily laden with ice and snow. It had begun snowing in earnest. Oversized flakes chased each other through the air before settling on the ground, creating a thick white carpet. She could not see the water for it was hidden beneath the snow and frozen beneath an inch of ice. It was the contrast of seasons. In the summer
hundreds of animals flocked to this spot to partake of the loch’s sparkling clean water. But now in the dead of winter, the river was still and game was scarce.

  Today, however, she had not come to the loch’s edge seeking food. Instead, she had hoped to hear the crunch of hooves on the cold earth and the unmistakable murmur of men’s voices as they returned to the camp. To her dismay, nothing other than the rush of the bitter wind disturbed the regal silence of the forest.

  She glanced up at the sky, trying to determine the time. Although she suspected it was just past midday, the horizon was gray and full of clouds. A bad omen. It meant that the storm would continue and perhaps grow worse. Usually the weather didn’t bother her, not even the damp, chilling cold that was typical of Highland winters. She was accustomed to it, having lived all of her twenty years in the rugged splendor of the glen she called home. Yet for more than a week the weather had been unusually frigid. This day seemed the worst yet. Deep-seated cold permeated the air and the wind grew stronger. Megan knew full well that poor weather could interfere with, even hinder, the men’s raid. They had been due back hours ago.

  In frustration, Megan clenched her plaid together, the heavy wool bunching beneath her icy fingers. The raids against the English had become more than just an act of defiance. They were necessary to feed the many hungry mouths of clansmen and their families. Stripped of their rightful heritage, they had been forced to live in the hills like animals, stealing, harassing and resisting the English with whatever methods they could employ. It was not a life Megan had envisioned for herself or her family, but it had not been a path willfully chosen.

  Narrowing her eyes against the wind, Megan pictured Castle Kilcraig, the proud ancestral home of the MacLeods of Gairloch. The enormous walls and the jutting twin towers had always been a place of security and pride for generations of MacLeods. But all of that had changed with the Jacobite Uprising and Scotland’s crushing defeat in the fields of Culloden six years earlier. Despite the fact that her father had never openly supported the young Stuart prince’s claim to the throne, the English had invaded their home anyway, ordering Robert MacLeod to sign an oath of fealty to the English King. When Robert refused, the English had cast him and his family from the land that had belonged to them for centuries.

  Still, English interference did not stop there. King George had ordered the entire Highland clan system forbidden, outlawing the tartan and declaring that any Scot possessing a weapon be punished by death. It was a barbaric madness that had become something beyond injustice. The English were destroying the very fabric of Highland life. And it was something the proud Clan MacLeod would resist as long as they could draw a breath.

  A strong gust of wind ripped through the forest, tearing the plaid from Megan’s head. Long dark strands of hair whipped about her face, stinging the skin on her cheeks and bringing tears to her eyes. She knew she would have to return to the camp soon or freeze.

  Clasping her hands together, Megan bowed her head and prayed. Snowflakes landed on the long sweep of her dark lashes, melting and trickling down her cheeks like tears. She stood there in silence, a small splash of color against the cool wintry landscape. Then, after a moment, she lifted her head and disappeared into the forest.

  * * *

  Megan leapt from her seat near a blazing campfire when she saw her clansmen returning home. The men rode single file and were strangely quiet. Concerned, she rushed across the snow to meet them. She slipped as she skidded to a stop near her uncle, grabbing on to the reins of his horse to steady her balance.

  “Ye’re late, Uncle Geddes.” She scolded him as snow swirled and settled on her hair. “Why, ’tis past nightfall and we’ve been worried sick about ye. What took ye so long?”

  Geddes Kincaid looked down at his niece and exhaled. His breath made a small cloud near his bearded face.

  “Megan, permit us to dismount. The men are weary and wounded.”

  She moved from his side, looking about for her father’s unmistakable black cloak. “Where is Father?”

  Geddes took one step and collapsed in the snow. Megan gasped when she saw the blood-soaked rags tied around his thigh.

  “My God, ye are injured.” She took his elbow, shouldering some of his weight. “Come, let me help ye into Father’s tent.”

  Before they had gone two steps, a young man with flaming red hair and a curly beard rode up beside them. Muttering an oath, he slid off his horse.

  “Could ye no’ wait for me, Da?” He wrapped a strong arm around the older man’s waist. “Ye’ll no’ get far wi’ only a wisp o’ a lass to help ye.”

  “I’m no’ a frail woman, Robbie. I can help him just fine.”

  “Aye, mayhap ye could. But the snow is deep and ye’ve hardly a decent pair o’ boots to your name. Dinna be stubborn, Meggie, and let me help him.”

  Megan stopped in her tracks, reluctantly releasing her uncle’s arm. “All right, Robbie, but—”

  She broke off with a small cry, pointing at a deep gash in her cousin’s arm. “Ye, too, have been wounded. What in God’s name happened today?”

  Geddes exchanged a quick glance with his son. A grim, unspoken message passed between them. “We had an unexpected skirmish wi’ Edwin Farrington.” Geddes winced in pain as he took a step. “’Twas a trap. We were anxious to return before the storm and we got careless. Farrington caught us unaware.”

  Megan’s eyes widened. “A trap? Blessed Virgin, was anyone else hurt?”

  Geddes put a hand on her shoulder. “Megan, ye must be strong, lass.”

  She took a step back, clutching her plaid between her fingers. “What do ye mean? Just how many men have been harmed?”

  Robbie sighed, rubbing a bandaged hand across his lower jaw. “Eight men lost, Meggie. One o’ them was your da.”

  She gasped, her face drained of all color. “Lost?”

  “They’re dead. ’Tis a black day indeed for Clan MacLeod.”

  “Dead? ’Tis no’ possible.”

  “I wish it wasn’t true. But he is wi’ us no more. Ye must be strong, Megan. For all o’ us.”

  Megan stared at him, unable to comprehend the knowledge that her father was dead.

  Geddes lifted an arm, pointing at his mount. “Your da’s cloak is there, Megan. I saved it for ye.”

  Numbly she walked to the horse, reaching up and pulling down the bloodstained cloak. She held it in her hands for a long moment before burying her face in the soft, black pelt. “Nay. No’ Papa too. Oh my God, nay.”

  “Meggie, I’m so sorry.”

  She lifted her head from the cloak, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t believe ye, Uncle. He’s alive. Ye left him there. He’s lying somewhere wounded and hurt. He needs our help.”

  Geddes shook his head. “Megan, listen to me. I buried your da wi’ my own hands. I wish more than anything that I could say that your father is yet alive, but, ’tis no’ so. He’s gone and somehow we must go on without him.”

  Megan stood unmoving, the snow swirling around her. Then with a heart-wrenching sob, she turned from the men and ran into the forest, her plaid streaming out behind her.

  * * *

  Robbie watched Megan go, his heart breaking into pieces. He had never hated the English more than at that exact moment. How could it be that they had let those black-hearted bastards drive them to this sick, twisted existence filled with naught more than death and heartache? Things had to change and soon.

  “Go after the lass.” Geddes clamped a hand on Robbie’s shoulder. “She needs ye more than I do now.”

  Robbie’s brow drew into a worried frown as he strode into the trees after her. He did not know how to comfort her. Although a man of considerable strength and size, he always felt helpless when it came to his cousin. Megan had always been the more clever and strong-willed of the two of them. It was she who had led h
im and half the bairns of the glen on one mischievous adventure after another. It was she who had boldly talked their way out of punishment time after time. All of his life he had half-admired, half-envied her wit and poise.

  And he had always loved her.

  At fifteen, he decided he would make her his wife.

  Robbie sighed at the memory, rubbing his knuckles against his bearded jaw. It worried him that to this day he had not yet been able to convince her to settle down. Before the English came, she had been a carefree spirit, not ready to bind herself to any man. It had both infuriated and terrified him when others paid her suit, but to his great relief, she had accepted none of them. Although she had not agreed to wed him either, he was comforted by the certainty that he held a special place in her heart. As children, they had been inseparable. As adults they remained confidants and close friends.

  But now they were living like animals in the hills with little time for love and companionship. Sometimes, at night, he woke up in a cold sweat, fearing that she might never be his. Yet he clung to his cherished hope, believing that as long as he dared to dream, it might somehow come true. The English could be damned. His love for Meggie was one thing he’d not allow them to steal.

  Robbie’s frown deepened as he looked up at the dark sky, noting that the snowfall had increased and the temperature was dropping rapidly. Pulling the plaid tighter around his broad shoulders, he hunched over and plodded through the drifts.

  Her trail was easy to follow on the snow carpeted forest floor, and he soon found her sprawled on a log, sobbing into her hands. He knelt down, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulder.

  “Meggie, let’s go back to the camp. There’s a great deal we need to talk about.”

  She lifted her grief-stricken eyes to his. “He’s gone, Robbie.” Her voice broke and tears streamed down her face. “He was all I had after J-Jamie...” She choked on her words, unable to finish.

  A twinge of pain flashed through Robbie as he thought of Megan’s twin brother. “’Tis a great tragedy that ye’ve had your family taken from ye. But take comfort. Ye should believe they are together in Heaven with your mum.”