The Highlander's Servant: Book One of the Highlander Possession Series (2 page)

             
Kirstin’s eyes went wide and her eyebrows furrowed, “Me?” she asked, appalled.

             
“Aye.”

             
“What would he want with me?” she asked, still not believing her mother entirely.

             
Her mother frowned, “I canna say, but whatever happened back there must no’ happen again. Marcas says that ye disrespected the man and he wants yer services in return.”

             
“But, Ma!” cried out Kirstin, “What services to I have to offer a highlander?”

             
Her mother reached a shaky hand out to caress the side of Kirstin’s face, “There now, my child. Refer to what I have taught ye. Ye ken how to milk the cows, seam hems, and prepare a meal. I am sure wherever he puts ye, yer knowledge will serve ye good.”

             
For the first time in a long time, a tear fell down Kirstin’s cheek and her mother instinctually wiped it away, “When does he make way to our home?”

             
Her mother’s frown deepened, “In the early morn’.”

             
“Oh, Ma!” a sob tore past Kirstin’s lips and she was left hugging her mother’s waist as she cried into her side, “Ye canna make me go.”

             
“I fear we have no choice.” And it was the truth.

Chapter Two

              “Wake up, Kirstin. Tis the early morn’ and Laird Bateson is here to take ye away.”

             
The blonde haired girl groggily awoke upon hearing her mother’s sympathy filled voice. She slept for no more than an hour or two, and dreaded opening her eyes.

             
Kirstin’s small bag was packed with her few belongings, only consisting of a few dresses, a pair of shoes, and a hairbrush. She didn’t have much due to her family’s small fortune, but it was enough to get by.

             
“I canna just sleep away this horrible nightmare, Ma?”

             
“Nay, ye need to meet Laird Bateson downstairs. The man is waiting for ye.” Came her mother’s reply. Kirstin could hear the hurt in her voice as she was forced to lose her only daughter to a fearful stranger. Lachlan Bateson was known to be treacherous with rough intentions, but lots of wealth. There was no doubt that he was selfish, and would not let Kirstin go unless under unusual circumstances.

             
It was as if she were to be kept as a prisoner. All because of her clumsy actions and small mistakes.

             
“Very well, I will make way in only a moment. Let me just grab my bag.” Kirstin replied, looking around her room one final time.

             
Her mother nodded and turned around to head back downstairs, all the while trying to keep the tears from falling. She had to remain strong, and Kirstin had to stay willful as well. This did not prevent Kirstin’s blue eyes from being red from the crying she had done hours before.

             
Taking in a deep breath and strapping her bag around her shoulder, she turned around and left her small room. Kirstin became shaky as her nerves began to increase, and her anxiety rushed over her in waves. Walking down the creaky stairs, she was given a clear view of their kitchen.

             
Amidst the kitchen were her parents, and the one and only dark haired man who she had come to despise. They were standing around in tense silence, and this did nothing to calm Kirstin.

             
By the time she made it down the stairs, Laird Bateson gave her a once over which made Kirstin’s cheeks redden. She did not appreciate the way his eyes roamed over her soft curves, and the unusual look in his eyes that she did not understand.

             
“We meet again, Kirstin Croft.” A wide smirk made its way on his lips, and his eyes seemed to brighten as he said her name.

             
“Aye.” She drawled, sparing him little attention. Her mother coughed loudly, as it was clearly intentional. Kirstin spared her a glance and she mouthed ‘Apologize.’

             
She would have rolled her eyes if it weren’t for the man standing before her.               Gulping, Kirstin spoke softly, “I am sorry for causing ye any embarrassment in town yesterday. I meant no harm by it, honestly.”

             
This time, his eyes seemed to darken more as they glazed over with seriousness, “Well, yer apology canna change my mind about what is to happen, but I do accept it.” He said roughly, then reached for the bag that was secured around her shoulder, “Let me help ye with that.”

             
Kirstin did not have a choice as his large hand gripped the strap and pulled it away from her. He threw it over his own shoulder, and she couldn’t help but observe at how easy and light he made its contents seem. She struggled carrying the bag, but he did not seem to show any hint of strain.

             
“Come now, we must leave. It takes nearly a week to return to my estate.” He guided her by the elbow towards the door, and her father held the door open for them.

             
Laird Bateson tied her bag to the side of his horse. It was the same terrifying black horse that she had spooked the day before, and only then did she realize that there was only his horse and no other, not even a carriage.

             
Her mother must have noticed this too because immediately upon exiting the house, she asked, “How is Kirstin to travel?”

             
The highlander chuckled, “By horse.”

             
“Well,” she asked again, “We canna provide her a horse, we only have a few, all of which are no’ in good enough condition to travel so far.”

             
He gave her an obvious look, “Which is why yer daughter will ride with me.”

             
Her mother gasped but bit her tongue; careful not to say anything that would insult the man. She looked to her husband, hoping he would intervene but he held up a hand and let it be.

             
“We canna waste another minute.” He rushed, looking at the rising sun that peered over the hills and farmland.

             
Looking about warily, Kirstin didn’t have time to object as Laird Bateson picked her up and settled her onto the horse. He did not allow her to sit sidesaddle, saying that “The ride is too rough and I don’t want ye falling off.” She was more than grateful that her dress was long enough to cover her mid thigh, even though it bunched up from sitting with a leg on either side of the large horse. Her mother did not look very happy with this, but said nothing.

             
Then Laird Bateson jumped up onto his horse, wrapped his bulging arms around Kirstin’s middle, and gripped the reins. He gave them a jerk and the black beast began to gallop.

             
Kirstin only had enough time to glance back at her parents, who waved at her. Her mother’s tears had finally began to fall again, and the last thing she saw was her father wrapping his arms around her mother, pulling her back into the house.

             
Kirstin became anxious with being so close to a male. She had to hold her dress down to prevent it from riding up too high.

             
“Relax, the ride is long and strenuous. The last thing we want is for ye to be sore from being so tense.” He gruffly said. Kirstin gave no response, but did her best to relax. Many more minutes passed before she found herself leaning against his strong, muscular chest.

             
He smelled of the woods and tall grass that she was used to rolling around on in the fields nearby her father’s farm. More so, he smelled masculine. It was a pleasant smell and she found herself allured by his scent. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not expect to fall asleep against him. When she did, she could feel one of his hands lower and barely caress her inner thigh, before gripping the reins once more. It was an odd thought, and she figured that she had dreamt it.



Laird Bateson stopped only once that day to give his horse water and to eat lunch. They had stopped in the woods, by a wide stream with flourishing greenery around it.

Kirstin was silent as she ate the bread and fruit he had packed for her. He watched her intently as her small lips bit into the juicy apple
.  He did not bother to look away when she looked up at him.

             
“Laird Bateson?” she asked timidly.

             
“Call me Lachlan.” He grunted.

             
Kirstin hesitated at the informal gesture, “Lachlan?” she spoke.

             
He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow as if to hint for her to continue.

             
“What will be my duties as yer servant?” Her tone of voice was both, curious and shy.

             
He shrugged, “We will figure that out when we get to my home. I am sure Alana will have a place for ye.”

             
“Alana?” she questioned once more.

             
“Aye, she is my servant who is in charge of the others. I donna have time to keep up with those kinds of things.” He explained.

             
Kirstin wanted to ask what he did have time for, but thought better of it.

             
He watched her finish her last bite, and then guided her back to his horse. Lachlan helped her onto it, and then got onto the horse himself. He once again wrapped his strong arms around her middle and gripped the reins, before they were on the way to his estate once again.



             
It took many nights in different Inns, and about five days on horseback before they neared arrival. Lachlan had been rough around the edges but something in him made him seem that he was more than that. Lachlan was a gentleman, despite his coarse appearance and gruffness of voice.

Kirstin could only assume from the rocky hills, and escalation of their route, that they were getting closer. The sun had begun to set not long after. Within a few more hours of her eyes closing and reopening in exhaustion, Kirstin
was able to see his great home.

             
And great, it was.

             
Made of gray brick with tall windows, and wooden doors, it seemed to be perched amidst many hills. Not too far were a line of trees that led to a sylvan forest, and she could hear the rushing of water from a river the closer they got.

             
The house was candle lit, as it was late by the time they arrived. She could barely make out the many people that filed out of the house and stood in a straight line, waiting for the true owner of the manor. It was the only formal way to greet any laird of such wealth and estate.

             
Kirstin became nervous again upon arriving to her new home. Lachlan brought the horse to a rough stop in front of the manor. His squire, who was scrawny with brown hair and friendly green eyes, greeted him with a curt nod of the head. Lachlan got off the horse and handed him the reins, and then he turned around to help Kirstin down.

             
“This here is Kirstin Croft. She is to be a servant within these walls and like any other, treated with kindness and respect.” Lachlan instructed the line of servants and men that stood tall. They barely spared Kirstin a glance as they watched Lachlan walked towards the house.

             
“Are ye coming or no’?” He turned around and gave Kirstin a stern look.

             
She hesitated briefly before following the man. His squire, whose name she still did not know, handed the horse off to a barn boy and carried her bag behind them. After they entered the foyer, only then did everyone else. They all went in various directions; some to finish their duties, and others were clearly making their way back to bed.

             
The foyer was wide open and dark. The candlelight did little to make it seem welcoming. With dark wooden boards and stonewalls, Kirstin stared in awe at how open and big everything was. The furnishings were elaborately decorated with carvings; quilts and paintings decorated the walls.

             
His squire bumped into her, “Sorry, Milady. I did no’ see ye around the corner.” He nodded to her in respect, a smile making its way to his lips, “The name is Roderick.”

             
A smiled graced Kirstin’s lips, “’Tis my pleasure.”

             
“Nay,” interrupted Roderick, “The pleasure is all mine. Now donna mind me, but I think we should follow after the laird before he notices our failure to do so.”