The Secret of Clan Duncraig

Book 2: Highland Lovers

by Cecelia Mecca

Genres: Ancient World Romance; Scottish & Highlander

Synopsis

Passion ignites in the shadow of a family secret. . .

Resilient young widow Maisie has sworn off love after enduring a forced marriage. But her life takes an unexpected turn when Kieran, a fierce and enigmatic Scottish warrior, arrives at the Red Stag Inn. On a quest to find the truth about his past after a recent shocking discovery, Kieran finds himself drawn to the beautiful and capable innkeeper and decides to make the Red Stag Inn his new temporary home.

Drawn together by a twist of fate, Maisie and Kieran find themselves entangled in a love that defies their intentions—Maisie to remain independent and Kieran to focus on uncovering his past. As their connection deepens, the pair are forced to spend the night together posing as man and wife, unable to deny their growing desire for one another.

When tragedy strikes at the inn, Kieran’s heart is laid bare, revealing the true depths of his love for Maisie.

But will it be too late?

The Secret of Clan Duncraig is a standalone HEA but best read as book two in the Highland Lovers duet beginning with The Lady of Clan MacKinlay.

 

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Release date: October 1, 2023

Publisher: Altiora Press

Print pages: 188

Sample

Chapter 1
The Red Stag Inn, Scottish Highlands, 13th Century
“Fergus, if you drop another mug of ale I’ll do more than box your ears, lad.”
Maise used the voice her staff feared, not to scare the boy, but to avoid him being
backhanded by one of the few men she was actually afraid of. If Fergus dropped even a a bit of
ale on Duncan MacBrannigan, the chieftain would likely give her poor new servant a his first
bruise. In turn, Maise would be forced to expel the man from her inn, and though she’d done it
twice before, she had no wish to do it again.
It was those two incidents that made MacBrannigan her fiercest adversary.
“Aye, my lady,” he said, carrying an ale in each hand toward the table in the window.
If it were any other man likely to cause trouble, she’d serve him herself. But if Maise
could avoid MacBrannigan, she’d do it. The man’s threat still lingered in her ears.
“When I return, and I will return, you will regret this decision,” he’d said.
As if she could turn a man his size away on her own, Maise had enlisted the aid of a trio
of men likely to take her side, enemies to Clan MacBrannigan who would have relished any
reason to challenge the fiefdom chieftain. He was man known for his cruelty and disregard for
others, especially woman. ’Twas that last fact that rose Maise’s ire most.
“A new dress, is it?” a customer said to Maise as she passed his table. The man lived only
a short distance from the inn and certainly dinnae need to rent a room. But instead of frequenting
his town’s tavern, instead he came here more often than she’d like.
Each and every time, she turned down his advances.

A blacksmith by trade, he was skilled with a sword, and Maise needed sword arms as
much as she needed The Red Stage to continue to earn coin. He was also regarded by the other
girls as handsome, though Maise thought he was only passing fair. Even still, she had little
interest in either a dalliance or, worse, a marriage.
She’d done the latter once and would not recommend to any woman.
“Aye,” she said reluctantly. “Another venison pie?” Maise asked, smoothing out her
kirtle, one she already regretted. Normally wearing one as nondescript as possible, she acquired
the new fabric when a merchant had traded it for a room. Too beautiful to waste, the deep green
in stark contrast to her light brown hair, the gown had immediately become her new favorite
even as Maise knew it would draw too much attention
“If yer getting it for me.”
Sighing, she moved away, slapping the man’s hand as he reached for her hip. The sound
resonated too far. Looking up, dismayed to see others’ looking at them, Maise hurried away with
MacBrannigan’s eyes on her back. She’d seen him looking at them. Had likely been watching
the entire time. Just waiting to take his revenge.
Walking straight to a table of the most unlikely defenders, a group of three English
knights, Maise dinnae hide her purpose.
“Sir Raynard?” she asked the same man who had pleaded for her hand in marriage many
times, “will you take up your sword if it become necessary?”
Sir Raynard’s sister had married a Highlander, and he’d come through her often in the
last year since her husband died. Each time he said the same thing. “Tis not safe for you, running
this inn alone. Let me aid you, Lady Maise.”

She reminded him gently, each time, she never planned to marry again. And still, he
continued to press his suit, though in a very different way than most men. He dinnae lear but
simply asked her each and every time, reminding her that, while he frequented her inn, Sir
Raynard’s sword arm was hers. Thankfully he traveled with two others today as MacBrannigan
did the same.
“You need not ask, my lady.”
“Many thanks,” she said, “I shall fetch more ale for all three of you.”
His kindly smile was most welcome with Maise fearing the gesture was the best thing
that would come out of this day. Two years as an innkeeper—one alongside her wretched
husband, courtesy of Maise’s father who had been all too eager to accept her late husband’s
coin—and she simply knew. Today would be one of those days. The kind where she questioned
her judgment at running The Red Stag alone.
Of course I can. And have. Would continue to, as well.
But for now, Maise simply had to get through the day unscathed. ...