The Highlander's Servant: Book One of the Highlander Possession Series

Dedicated to Michelle Saxton

“A loving friend who has never given up on me.”

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Chapter One

Have you ever seen a man so dark and obscure, that everything about him screamed immoral? Kirstin did. It was in that very instant when her eyes laid on him that she knew he did not come from her side of the land.

             
The man dismounted his horse, which was the largest and blackest of horses Kirstin had ever seen, and like many others she watched with curious eyes as the man’s muscles jerked and flexed. His black hair rustled in the breeze, and at any other time he may have seemed handsome if it weren’t for the deepening scowl on his face.

The man must have noticed the town’s watchful presence because he turned around and snarled, “Ye have
naethin’ better to look at?” which caused the townspeople to begin walking again as if nothing had occurred. However, it did not stop the low whispering gossip to occur.

Kirstin was about to be on her way to get the few things her family had sent her into town for. She took the list out from her satchel and scanned the lines briefly, before it was roughly ripped from her grasp.

Looking up, Kirstin came face to face with a snickering boy by the name of Davie. There was no doubt in her mind that he had a fondness of her, one that she did not return. Davie’s father was an advocate of court, unlike Kirstin’s who was just a meager farmer. Her parents were not involved in court or gossip, but they were happy off in the countryside. They barely got off in paying for necessities but they did, and that is all that mattered.

“Give it back.” Kirstin said sternly, reaching for her list only for Davie to jerk it high above her reach.

Davie smirked, “I will if ye give me something in return.”

Kirstin gawked, “Aye?”

If it was at all possible, Davie’s smirk widened, “A kiss for the lad.”

Kirstin drew back in repulse, “Nay. Ye are out of
yer mind!”

“Very well then,” Davie frowned in mock disappointment and began tearing up the list as Kirstin’s face expressed that of horror, “Canna think what
yer folks will say when ye return home with naethin’.” Then he let loose the pieces of paper and they went flying into the breeze.

Kirstin cursed underneath her breath and went after the pieces. She ignored the fact that they flew into the street, and she even managed to catch a few of the pieces. She was so focused and determined on retrieving the rest of the list her parents had given her that she did not realize she had stepped close to the black horse she had been obse
rving moments before. It took only a few steps closer for her to run face first into the strange man who was adjusting the saddle on the horse, and only a moment of realization for her to grasp the concept of what she had done.

The horse immediately became spooked, neighing loudly, and then it lunged forward. A breath escaped Kirstin’s lips and she jumped back as she watched the man grab hold of its reins. He reprimanded the horse until it was calm.

Kirstin stepped back from the man, still clutching the crumbled pieces of paper in her right hand and keeping her left hand close to her heart. She let out a shaky breath of air as he turned to face her.

It was clear that he was fuming now.

It seemed that the town’s people stopped what they were doing to observe the incident, which not only embarrassed Kirstin but also terrified her. There was no doubt that she would be the town’s gossip for the next month.

Something crossed the foreign man’s gaze when his dark eyes met her sterling blue ones. It was an unreadable, indescribable expression that she could not understand. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and his rage had replaced what was once there.

“I-I-I” Kirstin began to stutter. She was, needless to say, petrified, especially since it seemed that his jaw was tensing and his shoulders seemed to bulge. She wanted to apologize or even just run away, but her legs would not budge.

She cursed her fate.

“What is yer name?” the man asked, his tone low and rough.

Kirstin’s mouth opened and reopened several times before she managed to squeak out, “Kirstin Croft.”

The intimidating man bent down to her level and firmly looked at her, “Well, Kirstin Croft. I advise ye to be on yer way before I regret doing something ye may no’ like. Aye?”

Kirstin nodded her head vigorously, “Aye.” She a
greed, and then thanked God when her legs allowed her to scurry away from the man.

She did not bother getting the rest of the list after that, in fact, Kirstin did not bother staying in town at all. She headed home without another thought or care in the world.

The walk back to her home in the fields was a long walk, but she didn’t mind it. The view of the Scottish lowlands was a beautiful one; despite the rainy weather they got every once in a while. Even then, Kirstin didn’t mind getting wet.

             
The sun was just setting by the time she got back to her small house. She was grateful to be in the safety of her home, away from the judging eyes of the town’s people and the hateful stare of the man she had run into.

             
Though, the moment she entered through the front door, her mother gave her a once over, “Why do ye have naethin’ in yer hands? Where are the things I sent ye to get?”

             
Kirstin shrugged, “They were out.”

             
Her mother gave her a disbelieving look, putting her hands on her wide hips, “Of everything, Kirstin?”

The blonde haired girl nodded, “Aye.”

Mrs. Croft rolled her eyes, “I sent ye out for a couple of things and ye canna bring me any of them.”

Kirstin began going up the stairs of their two-level house, “Donna blame me,
blame Davie Lester. That boy is always getting me in trouble.”

Her mother threw
her hands up in the air, “Oh, my! What did that boy do to ye this time?”

Before Kirstin shut her door behind her, she yelled out, “I would rather no’ say!”

Kirstin threw herself onto her bed within the small room she inhabited. As she fell asleep, little did she know that there was a knock at the door down below.



              “Marcas?” asked Mrs. Croft as she opened the door wider for the old man to enter their home. He nodded in acknowledgement to her, “Aye, is Payton about?” he asked, referring to Mr. Croft.

             
Mrs. Croft shook her head, “Nay, no’ at the moment. He should be here soon. Can I offer ye some tea, Marcas?”

             
The man shook his head, and shakily sat down at the wooden table, “Where is Kirstin?”

             
“Why, I dare say she is upstairs. Is something the matter?” Mrs. Croft asked worriedly, brushing her hands on her dress as she did when she got nervous.

             
“We should wait for yer husband.” Said Marcas, breathing out a shaky breath.

             
Mrs. Croft took a seat with him and together they waited. It began to rain outside, thunder resounding nearby.

             
When the door opened, Mrs. Croft stood up abruptly to greet her husband.

             
He looked between the two of them warily, “Is something the matter, Alison?” he asked his wife.

             
“Marcas here has something to tell us.” She said, motioning to the elderly solicitor.

             
Marcas motioned towards the opposing chair, “I think it would be better if ye took a seat.”

             
With a confused expression, Payton did so. Then Marcas took a deep breath and began to speak, “Yer daughter made quite a commotion in town today.” He smiled wryly, “She ran into a highlander but not just any highlander. She ran into Lachlan Bateson, the most feared and respected of the Northern Highlands. Now, he wants her to work for him to pay off her disrespect that she showed for him. He demands it.”

             
A sob escaped from Alison’s lips as Payton was left murmuring, “He canna do that, can he?”

             
Marcas frowned, “He has taken it to court and has threatened yer family with misfortunes if it doesna happen. He has wealth, something that ye donna acquire, and something that he can use against ye. But,” Marcas paused, thinking over his words, “Laird Bateson has offered to pay ye for Kirstin’s services as well.”

             
This caused Alison to sob harder but Payton pursed his lips, “How much?” he questioned thoughtfully.

             
Marcas shrugged, “Enough. I will let him discuss it with ye when he comes for her.”

             
Payton then asked, “When will that be?”

             
He frowned again, “In the early morn’.”

             
Payton got real quiet after that, his silence was deafening and Marcas took that as sign to make his leave. Alison continued to cry out for her only child, and wasted no time to head up the stairs to go wake Kirstin. She would share the dreadful news with her, and help her pack her few belongings.

             
It was of no wonder that Kirstin had come back with none of the items on the list. Perhaps her daughter had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and it was just her luck that it had occurred this way.

             
Nevertheless, Mrs. Croft knocked on her daughter’s door.

             
Kirstin groggily awoke, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. The seventeen year old looked around her dark room in a daze, and then her door opened and a flood of light came rushing in, “Kirstin?” came her mother’s voice, “Are ye awake?”

             
“Aye, I am now.” She begrudgingly replied.

             
Her mother opened the door the door all the way so that the candlelight from the hallway illuminated her small room. She took a seat next to Kirstin who had sat up and was still rubbing her eyes, “Marcas just came by.” She told her with alarm.

             
Kirstin looked up at her mother, “What for?”

             
Her mother frowned and it was evident that she had been crying. Kirstin became worried instantly and put a comforting hand on her mother’s when she did not speak, “Ma?”

             
She choked on a sob, “He told us what happened in town and who ye ran into. That man, Kirstin, that man was Lachlan Bateson.”

             
Kirstin smiled wryly, “Aye, that would make sense. The man was as big as his horse, and the roughest of men I have ever come across.”

             
Her mother shook her head, “Kirstin, Ye donna understand.” Then she met her gaze with her red, tear-stained eyes, “Laird Bateson desires ye to work for him in his home.”