The fox, p.1
The Fox, page 1
The Fox
Clan Ross of the Hebrides
Pink Door Publishing
© Hildie McQueen 2021
EPUB Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission. 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 reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
A Note from the Author
Clan Ross of the Hebrides
Also By Hildie McQueen
Prologue
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
About The Stag
About the Author
A Note from the Author
In 1560, Scotland formally declared its split with the Catholic Church. John Knox, the leader of the Presbyterian movement banned the celebration of Christmas in Scotland from 1580 until about 1640.
Therefore, Clan Ross will be celebrating Hogmanay, a celebration of the new year, which consisted of days of games, gifts, and feasting.
One of the main traditions was “first footing” where a dark-haired man stepped over the threshold with shortbread, coal, black bun, and a wee dram of whiskey. In British and Manx folklore, the first foot is the first person to enter the home of a household on New Year’s Day and is seen as a bringer of good fortune for the coming year.
Clan Ross of the Hebrides
This fictional story takes place at the beginning of the 17th century in the Scottish Hebrides, isles off the Isle of Skye’s western coasts.
In the 1500s, lordship over the Hebrides collapsed and the power was given to clan chiefs. The MacNeil, in Barra, The Macdonald (Clanranald), in South Uist, The Uisdein, in North Uist and the MacLeod, the isles of Harris and Lewis.
For this series, I have moved the clans around a bit to help the story work better. The clans’ locations in my books are as follows. The MacNeil will remain in Barra, The Macdonald (Clanranald) is moved to North Uist, The Uisdein resides in Benbecula, and the MacLeod remains in the Isles of Harris and Lewis. My fictional clan, Clan Ross, will laird over South Uist.
Also By Hildie McQueen
Clan Ross of the Hebrides
The Lion: Darach
The Beast: Duncan
The Eagle: Stuart
The Fox: Caelan
The Stag: Artair
The Hunter: Ella
Clan Ross Series
A Heartless Laird
A Hardened Warrior
A Hellish Highlander
A Flawed Scotsman
A Fearless Rebel
A Fierce Archer
Moriag Series
Beauty and the Highlander
The Lass and the Laird
Lady and the Scot
The Laird’s Daughter
Prologue
Ross Keep, South Uist Hebrides, Scotland
1603
“Interesting that suddenly all my brothers are settling down,” Caelan told his stepmother, Lady Mariel. “I will not fall into such a trap.”
His stepmother chuckled. “I assure ye it is not a trap. I hope that when ye finally fall in love, it will not feel like one.”
They sat in the parlor at Keep Ross. He’d arrived that evening as his stepmother had asked him to take her to visit his half brother, Stuart, and Stuart’s wife, Cait, who lived on the west side of the isle in a place called Eilean Daes.
His eldest half brother and laird, Darach, would not leave the keep until his wife, Isobel, was fully recovered from childbirth.
His other half brothers also could not leave their duties. Ewan was busy preparing his lands for winter, Gideon had traveled to the southern guard post, and Duncan’s wife, Beatrice, was about to give birth. That left him to help with what needed to be done when it came to his stepmother.
He didn’t begrudge having to travel. In actuality, he looked forward to seeing his half brother and visiting the village now that it was fully rebuilt.
Although he’d never admit it to them, he missed Stuart terribly and his cousin, Artair, who remained at Eilean Daes, and he looked forward to spending time with them.
“When do ye wish to leave?” Caelan asked, drinking the last of the tea in his cup. “Early in the morning?”
“That would be perfect,” his stepmother replied, eyes bright with excitement. “Oh, did I mention we have another person traveling with us?”
Caelan let out a breath. “No, ye had not. Who?”
Just then a young woman walked in. Her clear green gaze barely hesitated on him before she looked to his stepmother and smiled widely. “I am sorry Aunt; I did not know ye had company.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Mariel said motioning to Caelan. “This is my stepson, Caelan. He is to take us to visit Stuart and Cait.”
“Oh.” The woman looked back to him. “I do not believe we have met.”
His stepmother placed a hand on his forearm. “I do not suppose ye have. When Glynis visited last, ye were gone to the lowlands.”
At the words, the woman studied him. “Ah, yes, now I remember. Ye are the brother who is more English than Scot.”
The words made Caelan want to glare at her. Instead, he gave her a bland smile. “Is it more Scottish than English to state things one knows nothing of upon meeting someone for the first time?”
Her eyes widened and she glanced to his stepmother. “I do not know why I said that. Father always says I have the worst habit of blurting things without thought.” She looked back to Caelan. “Please forgive me.”
When she lowered her gaze, Caelan studied her. Whoever she was she had to be the most enticing woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her plump lips begging for a lingering kiss. Her round curves an invitation to pleasure. Her breasts—
“Caelan?” His stepmother gave him a curious look. “Accept Glynis’s apology.”
His lips curved. “Of course. It is forgotten”
Satisfied, his stepmother smiled. “Glynis is my niece and is visiting from Bara.”
“Ah, a MacNeil,” Caelan said as Glynis lowered to sit.
“Ye say it as if ye do not care for my clan,” Glynis replied.
Caelan did not reply because if he were to be honest, there was one MacNeil he definitely did not care for. A young man at his school in Glasgow that he’d never gotten along with. But it was not something that mattered any longer.
“We leave early in the morning.” He stood and walked from the room, unwilling to look and see how the woman was probably assessing his choice of clothing.
He was well aware he dressed much more English than Scottish.
Chapter One
Mounted on his huge warhorse, Caelan and several guards surrounded the carriage that his stepmother, her companion Ana, and Glynis MacNeil traveled in. Feminine voices and laughter floated from the carriage, making the guards who rode alongside turn a time or two toward it.
Interesting how the presence of the fairer sex made the men sit straighter in the saddle and be more alert than usual to ensure their safety. Not to say that the men were not always doing their best, but even he would never allow any harm to come to the women.
His conversation with his stepmother the day prior came to mind. He’d not sought to court a woman before. It wasn’t that he was against marriage, but more that he’d never met someone who he could see himself tied to for life.
There was also the fact that he was born out of wedlock. Not exactly a pedigree that would attract a highborn woman. Or most women for that matter.
With this woman, he’d instantly been attracted. Glynis was striking with her fair complexion, red hair, and the clearest green eyes he’d ever seen.
One of the forward guards held up a fist and everyone brought their steeds to a stop and went silent.
Caelan leaned down to the carriage window. “Be silent. There is a party ahead and we are ensuring they are not a danger.”
The three sets of eyes locked to him, but the only ones he noticed were the green ones.
“’Tis a pair of peddlers,” a guard called out. “No threat.”
Overhearing the guard, his stepmother’s eyes widened as she looked to the other women.
She held out her hands making a motion for him to move. “Ask the peddlers to stop at once!” she ordered.
When he stared at her, she pointed to the carriage door. “Help us out, son.”
“We cannot linger,” Caelan said frowning toward the guard who galloped away to speak to the peddlers. “As it is, Stepmother, we will be hard-pressed to arrive before nightfall.”
Promptly ignoring him, the women climbed out of the carriage and hurried in the direction of the waiting peddlers.
Excited at their good fortune, the sellers greeted the women with great enthusiasm.
Caelan motioned to a guard. “Remain with the carriage. The rest of ye, surround the peddlers and ensure no one else is about.”
As the eight men did as they were told, he urged his mount ahead in order to patrol the area. It was on this same route that Stuart and Artair had been attacked just months earlier. Unlike that day, the sky was clear, and it was easy to see there were no threats.
As of late, South Uist had become more dangerous. People who traveled through the isle were often men escaping persecution from mainland Scotland for crimes.
Not only that, but with the late laird’s passing things changed. Darach ensured laws were enforced to protect the clan’s people. There were those who were angry that they had lost control and the ability to gain from others’ misfortune.
A guard returned from scouting ahead and gave him a curious look. “Why did ye stop?”
Caelan shrugged. “We came upon peddlers and the women demanded to shop for trinkets.”
The man let out a bark of laughter. “Aye, women do love to acquire what they can from the traveling tempters.”
“That is a good name for them,” Caelan replied scanning the area. “Anything of note?”
The scout shook his head. “There is a group camped up ahead. Four in total, two men and two women. They are headed to the west shore and are not in any hurry. Actually, seem to be enjoying themselves.
“My stepmother will want to stop and speak to them,” Caelan said looking up at the sky. “At this rate, we will not arrive until morning.”
True to form, Lady Mariel insisted they stop upon spotting the people, who were now surrounding a small fire. Caelan argued that it was growing dark, and they would not arrive until well after dark. However, she insisted.
“My aunt, like my mother, has always had a heart for people,” Glynis said standing next to him as he watched over his stepmother. “Ye should be proud of her. Not perturbed.”
Blowing out an annoyed breath, he glanced down at her. “Ye seem to find it easy to make presumptions about my person.”
“Ye look rather annoyed at her stopping to ensure the people are well.”
“Those people are not in harm’s way. Therefore, the fact that we are losing daylight and must travel in the dark, which makes it dangerous for the horses, does annoy me.”
“Here she comes now,” Glynis said walking toward his stepmother, who smiled.
“I tried to convince them to travel with us to keep from any harm, but they insisted they wanted to remain there since it will be dark soon.”
Caelan gave his stepmother a droll look. “Because Stepmother, traveling in the dark is dangerous.”
When she came closer and cupped his jaw with her hand, his heart melted. “I am not afraid because ye are the bravest warrior I know and will keep us all safe.”
At the words, Glynis grinned at him, eyes twinkling with mirth. Caelan narrowed his, but decided it was best not to say anything further.
His English appearance had lulled many an attacker to thinking him easy prey. However, those who knew him would think twice before confronting him. With sword in hand and temper loosed, he became someone else. A berserker of sorts.
In battle, he rarely was injured, nor did he ever lose. He was without compare when the hot temper just beneath the surface erupted. Few who battled him lived to talk about it.
His stepmother looked up at the sky. “Do ye think we should set up camp as well?”
“Aye, it is best that we do. Horses can hurt themselves traveling in the dark.”
Before long, they had a bonfire lit and a makeshift shelter for the women.
Fish were caught in a nearby stream and the meal was shared with the other travelers who seemed happy to have companions who would keep dangers at bay.
“Where exactly are ye headed?” Caelan asked one of the men, who’d introduced himself as Luke.
“To the shore. To find a village to settle at,” he replied eyeing the bonfire. “I hope to find work and a home for my wife.”
“My family owns the lands from here to the northern shore. There is a village there that is growing. It is called Eilean Daes. Ye may wish to settle there.” Caelan admired the man, who seemed hopeful that he could provide his wife with a better life. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to begin again, without work, coin, or food.
“Reach out to my cousin. His name is Dougal Ross, and he is the village constable. He will help ye find shelter and work.”
The man gave him a grateful look. “We are very fortunate to have met ye on the way to our new life.”
Caelan did not ask the man why he and his companions were traveling. It was obvious they were poor and without resources. At the same time, Luke seemed proud and eager to find work. He had no doubt the man and his companions would do well in Eilean Daes.
Instead of sleeping, he took first watch and along with two guards patrolled while the others slept. Caelan wasn’t keen to spend a night outdoors and then another day in the same clothes. Since very young unless at battle—which he dressed appropriately for—he changed clothes daily after washing up. They planned to remain with Stuart and Cait a fortnight, so he’d brought enough clothes to change daily with only needing a few things washed.
Thankfully since there was a creek not too far from where they camped, he could bathe and change at dawn. At the thought, he looked up to the star-filled sky. The moon was bright, giving plenty of light. Although the weather was quite cold, thankfully there were no clouds in the sky.
The last thing they needed was to travel through a storm.
As soon as the first rays of daylight peeked, Caelan got up and grabbed clothes from the small trunk he’d packed.
He hurried to the creek, not looking forward to the frigid water, but the sooner he got it over with, the better. After looking to ensure the women were not up, he undressed and dove into the water. The coldness of it took his breath and he gasped before diving back in.
After running soap over his body, he submerged in the water and jumped back up, his teeth chattering as he waded to the shoreline.
When he turned to where he’d left his clothes, Glynis appeared through the trees. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. Oblivious to his presence, she walked to the edge of the water and lowered to crouch near the water’s edge.
Caelan was shivering and did not have the patience to wait for the woman to wash her face or whatever it was she was doing.
“Do ye mind turning yer back? I need to dress.” Caelan knew he sounded irritated, but he didn’t care.
When she turned to him, he dropped both hands to cover his sex. Sure, his lips were turning blue from the cold, he became more annoyed when instead of turning away, she stared at him, mouth agape.
“Why are bathing? The water is much too cold.”
“If ye do not turn, I will not care what ye see,” he snapped with little effect as the shivering made his voice quiver.
“Oh. Aye. Sorry.” Glynis turned around and looked up at the trees. “Did ye sleep well?”
Struggling to put his tunic on, he grunted in response. Once it was on, the warmth of the thick fabric began to seep in making it easier to pull on his breeches.
He sat down to pull on his socks and boots and then tied a thick leather belt around his waist. Once that was done, he lifted his scabbard and sword.
“I need to wash my face and return to help my aunt,” Glynnis said still standing in the same spot.
Without a response, Caelan walked away. The woman annoyed him. He’d taken an instant dislike to Glynis. Just her mere presence made him cross.
Perhaps he was set in his ways, preferring to spend time with those he knew. Yes, he enjoyed female company here and there, but only for short moments. This one, although pretty, rubbed him the wrong way with her way of speaking without thought.
