Highland Hero by Hannah Howell

laddie, sleep.
    A bonnie lass who fed him apple tarts that made him hear his mother’s voice in his head, he mused, but could not gather the strength or will to be troubled by that. He would court Rose, he decided. It was time he was wed and set about the business of breeding an heir. Rose was the first woman he had met who had stirred such a thought in his head.
    For one brief moment he feared that, too, was caused by her apple tarts, but only for a moment. Adair knew the feelings Rose stirred within him were caused by Rose and Rose alone. The seed had probably been planted years ago by the endearing child she had been. He would have her for his own, but first he would get her to cast aside all this dangerous foolishness about magic.
    As sleep crept over him, Adair thought he heard his mother’s voice again. She was scolding him for thinking he could take only a piece when true happiness and the prize he sought would only come to him when he could accept the whole. Adair decided he was too tired to understand what that meant.

Chapter 3
    “Ye willnae get away with using your witch’s tricks on the laird.”
    Rose sighed, then took several deep breaths to try to smother her anger. Mistress Kerr’s voice was enough to stir her anger now. After years of enduring the woman’s poison, she simply had no patience left. She knew she had to be careful, however. Every word she said to the woman had to be carefully weighed or it could come back to haunt her. It was not fair, but Rose knew she had to remain calm and courteous. It was her own fault she was going to have to endure this confrontation. She had been so caught up in her thoughts about Sir Adair that she had undoubtedly missed several opportunities to elude the woman.
    “Pardon, Mistress?” she asked in a sweet voice as she turned to face the woman.
    Mistress Kerr crossed her arms and glared at Rose. “Ye heard me. The mon has barely warmed the laird’s seat and ye are trotting up there with some of that cursed food. Aye, and then ye bewitched the lad so that he followed ye home.”
    “Ye make our laird sound like some stray pup. And might I ask how ye ken he walked me home?”
    “Geordie saw the two of ye walking along hand in hand. Ye have probably already lured him into your bed.”
    “Ye insult the laird and me. Our laird is a gallant knight and didnae like the idea of my walking home alone. Since Geordie was obviously lurking in the wood again, it appears the laird’s protection was needed.”
    “If ye hadnae bewitched the poor lad, he wouldnae be such a trouble to ye.”
    “Mither,” whispered Anne, shock and a tentative condemnation in her voice.
    Rose glanced at Anne, who stood just behind her mother. She was a little embarrassed to realize she had not even noticed the young woman, then told herself she had nothing to feel guilty about. Anne had developed a true skill at hiding whenever her mother was near. The fact that Anne could do so when only a few paces away from the woman was astonishing. It was also, Rose decided, a little sad.
    “Geordie is nay bewitched,” Rose said, surprised at how calm and reasonable she sounded, for she was furious. “He is a rutting swine who sees a lass alone as easy game. I would think he deserves far more watching than I do.”
    “Oh, aye, ye would like it if I ceased to watch you,” snapped Mistress Kerr. “That would leave ye free to ensnare the laird.”
    “The mon has survived ten years of fighting in France. I dinnae think he can be brought to his knees by a wee, red-haired lass.”
    “Heed me, Rose Keith: I mean for my Anne to become the laird’s wife.”
    “I dinnae want to be,” protested Anne, even as she retreated a few steps from her mother.
    “Hush, ye stupid lass,” snapped Mistress Kerr. “Ye will do as ye are told. And ye can begin by ceasing to fawn o’er that fool Lame Jamie.”
    “The laird doesnae want to wed me, either.”
    Mistress Kerr ignored her daughter and returned her glare to