Highland Daydreams Read Online Free

his execution to come quick, but the Earl of Cumberland had delayed the trials while he was attending the marriage of his cousin, the Duke of York, to Lady Rosalind of Northumberland. Bram learned many valuable things while listening to the guards talk amongst each other; things he was most anxious to rely back to William Wallace and Robert the Bruce. But most importantly, to his own brother, Rory, Laird of Clan MacKinnon.  
    Over and over, Bram struggled with why his cousin Ewan, who had fought aside him, had left him on the battlefield to die. When Bram had regained the strength to lift his head out of the muck, he had seen a group of his fellow Scotsmen retreat towards the woods along with Ewan. Ewan was more of a brother to him than his own brother Rory. His brother felt that Bram’s adventurous temperament was more a burden than a blessing. Ewan, however, was different. He still knew how to enjoy adventure, unlike Rory. Bram knew that he could not fault Ewan for leaving him behind. He would only have left if he thought Bram was dead.
    His thoughts turned to home. He missed the sights, the smells, even his overbearing brother. It had not been the first time he had been away from Dunakin Castle. In fact, he had left for weeks at a time on several occasions, gallivanting across the Highlands, meeting with the neighboring clans as well as visiting his favorite French whore, Genevieve.
    How he wished to be with her now, to feel the soft touch of her bosom. To Bram, women were made for bedding and breeding. His brother Rory blamed his arrogance about women on Elspeth, a young, dark-haired maiden, he’d once loved who had turned her attentions to Rory. Bram had thought to marry the lass, but she had broken his heart. After her untimely death he viewed marriage as a fool’s game, and there were far too many women who willingly offered to lie on their backs for him without it.
    Bram had never missed an opportunity to lift a lass’ skirt. Even though he would leave them without words of commitment, he always accepted the consequences thereafter. He had two sons already. Colin, his oldest at seven summers, born to Marietta, and Connor, a wee laddie of four summers, to Fiona.
    Never committing to either lass, Bram gratefully welcomed the bairns into his life. Thinking about his two young lads now weighed heavy on his heart. He felt full of guilt for leaving them. But he knew they were brave lads, and they would believe that their father had died heroically in battle. Still, the emptiness in his chest had him longing for home.

Chapter 3
     
     
    Bram’s head perked up when he heard the sound of a stick breaking under one’s foot. With pure instinct, he rose, ready to defend himself. As he stood with fists tightened, Lara entered the barn holding onto a trencher of food and drink. The tray was full of dried venison, bread, and a small-sized mug of whiskey. Bram silently thanked the heavens for the whiskey.
    “I thought ye might be hungry,” she whispered keeping her head low as if she were a servant offering up a meal to a king.
    “Aye, I am,” he answered.
    As he reached out for the tray, her hands began to tremble.
    “I’ll no’ hurt ye lass,” he whispered, hoping to ease her mind. Noticing that she continued to keep her head down, Bram wondered if she was afraid of him. She was not like the women that usually caught Bram’s eye. This lass was scrawny, small chested, and her skin was as pale as sheep’s wool. Her long black hair was a dull tangled mess.
    Thinking back over the past two weeks, Bram had to admit that he had not paid much attention to her. The lass often hid in the dark corner of her cell and kept to herself. Bram knew that whatever her reason for imprisonment, it was none of his business. Only now did he begin to feel guilt and shame for not intervening on her behalf. After all, the lass had saved his life, and no woman he had ever known had shown such bravery as this daring lass had. But he