Seducing a Scottish Bride by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

and felt the lad should know all of Kintail, even
     its darkest corners. That the lad bravely set foot in Glen Dare endeared him to us all and your da and the Black Stag were
     soon inseparable, almost like brothers.”
    Ronan couldn’t believe it. “My father and Duncan MacKenzie?”
    His grandfather nodded. “So I said and so it was. At the time, I kept a galley at Eilean Creag. A gift of the MacDonalds,
     it was one of the finest galleys in all the Hebrides. So fine, your father and young Duncan pestered me always to take them
     a-journeying in it.” He blinked, swiped a hand across his whiskery cheek. “ ’Twas a glorious summer day when we set sail.
     All blue skies and strong winds, nary a cloud on the horizon. Until we neared the Isle of Scarba, near Jura —”
    “Jura?” Ronan’s brows arched. “You sailed that far south?”
    “I told you, the lads wanted to go journeying.” His grandfather looked peeved suddenly, older than his years. “I was taking
     them to Doon, to visit the MacLeans.”
    “But you never made it, did you?” A strange prickling started at the back of Ronan’s neck, warning him. “Something happened
     and you saved the Black Stag’s life.”
    His grandfather moved to the windows and stood staring out at the mist and rain, his hands clasped tightly behind him. “A
     storm blacker than I’d e’er seen blew in off the sea, turning day to night faster than you can blink. Huge, standing waves
     carried us off course, hurtling us way too close to the great Corryvreckan whirlpool.”
    He turned then, his eyes haunted. “The galley didna founder, but in the wild tossing, young Duncan was swept over the side.
     Close as we were to the Corryvreckan, he would’ve been sucked down into the sea had I not sailed to the edge of the whirlpool
     and plucked him from the water.”
    Ronan stared at him, finally understanding his grandfather’s hold over Duncan MacKenzie. “Now I see. The Black Stag is indeed
     indebted to you. For your bravery and valor when other men might have —”
    “That had naught to do with it.” Valdar brushed at his plaid again, looking embarrassed. “I was a young fool, trusting in
     the dark luck of Maldred’s legacy and certain no ill would touch me.”
    “Yet now, in claiming the debt, you’d risk ill befalling an innocent maiden?” Ronan regretted the words as soon as they left
     his tongue. He lifted a hand, took a step forward. “Grandfather, forgive me. I know you mean well —”
    “Nae, I know well.” His eyes blazing, Valdar came forward, grasping Ronan’s hands with his own. “I am no longer young and
     foolish. I’m well aware of Maldred’s shadows. The dangers. You must believe, I would ne’er have offered for Gelis MacKenzie
     did I not believe she’d be safe here.”
    Ronan pulled free and began pacing. “I’ll still not have her. ’Tis impossible.”
    Valdar hurried after him, grabbing his arm. “You must. She is your salvation. She’s Dare’s salvation, as you are hers.”
    Ronan’s stomach clenched. “I am no woman’s salvation,” he said, and the girl on the strand flashed once more across his mind.
     “Only her doom.”
    “You must at least think about it.” His grandfather squeezed his arm. “You have till the morrow.”
    The words spoken, Valdar strode from the room, leaving Ronan to stare after him, his gaze boring into the murk beyond his
     opened bedchamber door until his eyes burned and his throat tightened with silent rage.
    He couldn’t, wouldn’t marry Gelis MacKenzie.
    Slamming down the lid of his coffer, he sank onto his bed and drew a long, frustrated breath. His grandfather’s tidings had
     been anything but joyous.
    The imminent arrival of the Black Stag’s daughter wasn’t a reason for celebration.
    It was a disaster.
    Perhaps the worst to befall Dare in centuries.

Chapter Three

    N ot long after noontide the next day, Ronan descended the tightly winding stair to Castle Dare’s great hall, only