To Charm a Highlander, page 1
To Charm a Highander
Callie Hutton
Callie Hutton
Copyright © 2023 by Callie Hutton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is 100% created by the author. No AI was used.
Contents
1. About the Book
2. Chapter 1
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
5. Chapter 4
6. Chapter 5
7. Chapter 6
8. Chapter 7
9. Chapter 8
10. Chapter 9
11. Chapter 10
12. Chapter 11
13. Chapter 12
14. Chapter 13
15. Chapter 14
16. Chapter 15
17. Chapter 16
18. Chapter 17
19. Epilogue
20. About the Author
About the Book
Love blossoms amidst secrets and suspicion. . .
Lady Donella Sutherland has been ignored by most of her clan because she is thought to be simple-minded. She wasn’t always that way, her brother, Laird Haydon insists. But the years go on and she doesn’t change.
Callum Gunn, second oldest son to Laird Gunn has been accused by his brother, Fraser of causing his father’s death on the battlefield. A charge Callum strongly denies. With a few men willing to testify on Laird Fraser Gunn’s behalf, Callum finds himself banned from his clan.
A few months of wandering around brings him to the Sutherland Castle where he asks Laird Haydon Sutherland to allow him to join his warrior forces. Not trustful of the Gunn Clan, Haydon refuses, but as Callum is about to leave, Lady Donella slips on the stairs and after smacking her head on a stone step, tumbles down, right into Callum’s arms.
Grateful for saving his sister from a certain death, Haydon allows Callum to stay.
When Donella awakens, she is surprised to find everyone treating her like a bairn. Her family and the clansfolk all act strangely toward her as she moves around the castle, doing normal jobs.
Callum finds the lass he rescued beautiful and charming. He sees nothing dimwitted about Donella and is confused by what he hears from others in the clan. However, as they grow closer he believes she is hiding a secret that could keep them from having a life together. If he wants that life with Donella, he must uncover what secrets she’s been hiding.
* * *
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Chapter 1
Dornoch Castle
Home of the Sutherland Clan
July, 1660
Lady Donella Sutherland, sister to Laird Haydon Sutherland and Conall Sutherland, had seen three and twenty summers and yet remained unmarried. She was sure her laird, like everyone else in the clan, thought her simple-minded, and therefore he had ne’er tried to arrange a marriage for her.
Donella was no’ simple-minded. Her mind was locked down by fear and guilt. Thwarted by memories she’d kept to herself.
And had been since she was a lass. No one kenned that because she ne’er told anyone what had happened to her and what she’d done when she was a mere fourteen years.
That was when she drew into herself and blocked out the rest of the world. It was the only way she could protect herself. She had her own secret safe place in her head where she lived most of the time. She spent hours in the woods enclosed within the castle walls, walking, and enjoying the sights and sounds. Avoiding people was her favorite thing to do.
In the wintertime, she took hour long walks in the snow, loving the cool air on her face. It was never too cold for her because she was free.
“Donella, there ye are, lass.” Her sister-by-marriage, Ainslee, Haydon’s wife, called out to her where she sat against a tree, drawing on the parchment paper Haydon was able to get for her. She knew it was an expense, but since she asked for nothing more, he’d oftentimes told her she deserved it.
She wasn’t sure what she deserved, if anything. But did not like to dwell on it since being in her happy place where difficult thoughts didn’t exist was much more pleasant.
Ainslee approached, her stride forceful, her long braid bouncing over her shoulder. Donella wondered where the woman got all her energy. She ran the keep like a warrior and even kept her four bairns and one—difficult at times—husband in line. Haydon thought he ran the clan, but Ainslee had more to do with it than he did, although no one would e’er say that to his face. However, with as crazy in love as he was with his wife, he would most likely laugh and walk away.
Her sister-by-marriage came to an abrupt halt in front of her. “I need yer help in the kitchen.”
“Aye.” Donella gathered up her things and stood. She brushed off the back of her dress and smiled at Ainslee. “What do ye need me for?”
Ainslee patted her on the shoulder, a slight shiver running down Donelle’s arm at the touch. “Since ye took over the garden again, I must tell ye Jonet is so verra happy to have fresh herbs to season the meals with. Ye do have a gift.”
Donella’s eyes grew wide. It was rare for anyone to notice something she did and offer a compliment about it. After Mam died and Donella’s world fell apart, she let everything in the castle go, even though she was supposed to be acting as chatelaine. Back then, she couldn‘t even look at the garden without turning into a waterpot. That was where she and Mam spent so many hours, talking, and making Donella feel safe and loved.
“Thank ye, Ainslee. I do enjoy working out there. Is something amiss?”
Ainslee turned and they both began to walk toward the keep. “A bit. Muriel, the young maid Jonet sent out to gather herbs for the meal she is preparing, apparently dinna ken one plant from another and brought back all the wrong things. Jonet wants ye to gather what she needs because ‘tis growing late, and also, if ye will, dry and preserve the herbs Muriel brought in so as not to go to waste.”
Having something to do using her hands, keeping her mind occupied was fine with her. She gladly tucked her drawings away and followed Ainslee to the kitchen back door.
“Donella, lass, here’s a basket for ye to gather the herbs I need.” Jonet, the cook who’d been with them for years smiled as she handed it to her. The friendly woman was the solution to another mistake Donella had made. Shortly after she’d taken over the chatelaine’s duties following Mam’s death, Donella had hired the prior cook, Margie, who had turned out to be a verra poor choice.
The cook had terrorized the kitchen staff, had been rude to the laird and his wife, and after Haydon fired her, they discovered she’d been stealing from them. Nothing Donella seemed to do to manage the keep had been the right thing.
Donnella gladly took the basket. This was a task she thoroughly enjoyed. The smells of the garden and the earthly aroma of all the wonderful herbs that Jonet used in her dishes surrounded her, bringing her peace.
She was happy Ainslee had put her in charge of the garden when she’d married Hayden. By then she’d gotten over the hardest part of losing Mam. Now only good memories enveloped her when she knelt on the soft, damp ground and completed her chore.
* * *
Callum Gunn kicked a clod of dirt and stamped out the small fire he’d used to cook the plump pigeon he’d caught for his meal. Certain that all was well, he then packed up his few possessions and tightened the cord holding them to Favela’s haunches. The poor animal was looking as scrawny as Callum.
It was time to approach one of the clans who could use his warrior skills. After wandering for weeks, he realized the closest clan was Sutherland. Callum threw his leg over his horse’s back and moved them in the direction of Dornoch Castle. He went over in his mind what he kenned of the clan.
A verra old clan and an honorable one, Laird Haydon Sutherland had a brother and cousin who held the positions of seconds-in-command. He wasn’t looking for a position like that. He only wanted to feel part of a group.
With war forever a threat, a clan could always use another sword. His had always been the finest, the best of the Gunn’s. ‘Twas tired he was of wandering; he wanted a place to rest his head with a roof over it and regular hot meals. He also craved a sense of being needed.
He rode for a few hours, the sun just beginning to set when he approached the castle.
“Who goes there and what is your business?” The warrior on the Dornoch Castle rampart called down to him as Callum grew closer to the drawbridge.
“I am Callum Gunn and I wish to speak with Laird Sutherland.”
The man studied him for a minute, looking around the area as if expecting hordes of warriors to emerge from the woods. The guard seemed to want to decide whether to throw hot oil on him or let him see the laird. “Come inside and drop your sword, and I will have someone meet you.”
The drawbridge eased down, the squeals of the chain ringing in the evening air. Callum rode on, Fauvel’s hooves clattering over the wood. He approached the portcullis, which raised, allowing him into the outer bailey.
The portcullis closed behind him, and several warriors stood in a small semi-circle behind one mon, a different warrior than the one on the rampart. His hand firmly rested on his sword as he approached him, then his massive warrior’s body came to a full stop a few steps away and h e drew out his sword. “Drop your sword and any knives or other weapons you have on ye.”
Callum pulled his sword from the scabbard on his back. He also removed the sword by his side, and the knives strapped to his thigh, chest, and belt. When he was through, he stepped away from the pile. ‘Twas a good thing the Sutherlands were known to be men of honor or there was no doubt he would be a dead mon.
The warrior collected the weapons. “Stay here and I will see if the laird wishes to speak with you.” He turned and left, taking the armor with him, making Callum happy that he hadn’t found the knife strapped to the back of his belt, under his leine and deer skin jerkin.
The other men continued to stand, their hands resting on the swords by their side. He waited more than a quarter of an hour before another man approached him. With no warmth in his greeting, he said, “I am Conall Sutherland, brother to the Laird of Sutherland.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What brings you to us today?”
“I would prefer to speak directly to the laird.”
“It doona matter to me what ye prefer. The mon who let ye in said ye were Callum Gunn. Do ye come today representing yer laird?
“Nay.”
Silence surrounded them as Conall glared at him. “Are ye aware that the Sutherlands are not on the best of terms with yer clan?”
“The Gunns are not my clan.”
Sutherland stared at him for a moment. “What is your relationship to Laird Gunn?”
Callum spat on the ground. “He is my brother.”
Conall raised his eyebrows. “I ken yer da died in a battle a couple of months ago. Why are ye here? Did yer brother toss ye out?”
“I left.” Callum spread his feet apart. “We had a difference of opinions.”
“Serious enough to make ye leave yer clan?”
“Aye.”
Silence reigned for at least a full minute. Callum was growing weary of the mon’s attitude. It wasna in his best interest to antagonize him, though. With as much control as he could muster, he said, “Am I going to see the laird?”
Conall shook his head. “Nay. The mon is busy. If ye have a message, ye can tell me and I’ll pass the word onto him.” He nodded at the front door and turned toward the steps he’d come down. “Ye can pick up your weapons when ye leave the outer bailey.”
It dinna go as well as he’d hoped. He kenned it would be difficult to join another clan, especially one as powerful as the Sutherlands and who were not in the best of graces with the Gunns. He had hoped, however, to at least be able to speak with the laird.
Frustrated, he turned and with the men who had been watching the exchange following behind him, he started toward the door when he heard a loud scream. He looked over toward the stone staircase on the other side of the room where a young lass was frantically waving her arms as she slipped and began to tumble down.
Being the closest to her, he raced in her direction. She smacked her head against one of the stones in the wall but landed in his outstretched arms with a thump, almost tossing them both to the ground. Her eyes slowly closed.
A red stain grew on his leine where blood dripped from her head. The lass was out cold. He turned with her in his arms and yelled, “We need a healer here.”
Chapter 2
The lass in his arms, Callum hurried up the stairs after one of the warriors to the first floor. A large mon thundered down the corridor, almost shaking the several hundred-year-old stone floor and wall loose. The size and presence of the mon had to be Laird Haydon Sutherland. “Christ’s toes, what the hell is going on? Who screamed?”
After glancing at Callum and the lass in his arms, he shouted, “Ainslee!” His roar bounced off the walls.
“I’m here, Haydon, no need to scare the animals in the stables with yer bellowing. I just heard a scream and came as fast as I could.”
“’Twould be helpful if someone can tell me where to lay the lass down and then send for a healer,” Callum shouted.
Haydon’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are ye and why are ye holding the bleeding lass?”
Ainslee, who must have been the laird’s wife, waved at her husband. “Stop, husband. Ye can see the lass is injured.” She turned to Callum with a slight lift of her chin. “Ye can bring her in here.” She turned and led the way.
Callum followed Lady Sutherland into a bedchamber a few doors down from where they stood. The laird followed them inside. Lady Sutherland whipped the bedcovers off in a flash. “Lay her down here.”
Once Callum had easily placed her on the bed, another woman carrying a basket came bustling into the room. “What happened to Donella?”
Three pairs of eyes fixed on him. The laird with a great deal of suspicion, Lady Sutherland with concern for the lass and the other woman with raised brows, obviously waiting for someone to tell them what had happened.
Callum cleared his throat. “I was leaving the keep—” he looked at the laird—“as I was ordered to do, and I heard a scream. The lass had slipped on the stone steps. She grabbed for the wall, but was unsuccessful and tumbled down, smacking her head on one of the stones. I was able to catch her before she landed on the floor to keep her from worse injures.”
The laird ran his hand down his face. “Are ye the Gunn Conall told to leave?”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“Wait for me downstairs in the great hall. Have one of the lasses bring ye some food and drink.”
The woman with a basket over her arm filled with cloths and jars moved past him and began to examine the lass. “Ainslee, ye will need to help me remove her clothes so she will be more comfortable. Plus, if she tumbled down the steps, she may have scraped herself in various places.”
Callum turned and left the bedchamber and headed downstairs.
He had no idea who the lass was, but apparently with the fuss being made, she must be a family member. Perhaps wife to one of the Sutherland men.
After taking a seat at one of the long tables, a serving lass came by and asked what he wanted. He asked for anything that was hot and was pleased to receive a warm bowl of fragrant stew and fresh bread and butter. A large glass of ale washed it all down quite nicely.
It felt good to merely sit in the room. There were several older men gathered in a corner. They appeared to be playing a few games. And drinking their ale. Most likely warriors too old to train and fight.
During the half an hour that passed while Callum watched the men, he glanced occasionally toward the stairs, waiting for the laird to come down and formally toss him out. At least he would leave with a full belly and quenched thirst.
He also spent time considering the poor lass upstairs. Hopefully she wasn’t badly injured, but head injuries could be dangerous. The sound of heavy footsteps drew his attention to the bottom of the stairs, as the laird moved toward him. The mon nodded at the lass clearing one of the tables. “An ale for me and one more for—” he hesitated, “—our guest.” He added, “Who isna staying.”
The laird remained silent for a few minutes until Callum was so edgy, he planned to just hop up and leave. Except he was concerned about the lass who fell. Finally, drawing on his strength and confidence as a mon and warrior, he said, “How is the lass?”
The Sutherland looked over at him. “I want to thank ye for saving my sister, Donella, from more serious injuries by catching her when she fell. If it were not for ye, I am sure we would be planning the lass’s funeral right now.”
Callum nodded.
“What was so important for ye to speak with me that ye went through giving up yer armor—except for the knife tucked into the belt behind ye, hidden by yer leine and jerkin?”
Callum was not surprised the laird kenned he’d kept one weapon on him. The Sutherland didn’t get the reputation he had by letting things like that slip.
He looked him in the eye and said, “I am offering my skills in exchange for a place in yer clan. “
The laird crossed his arms over his chest, looking both curious and skeptical. “And what skills would that be?”
“I am a warrior. I have been trained by the best, worked as one of two seconds-in-command to my da, Laird Gunn, acquitted myself in many battles, and trained others in my clan.”
