Free Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero by Terry Spear

two months, Marcus had continued to beseech Pembroke to allow him to marry his daughter. He wasn’t about to give up his clan, nor did his people want him to, but if it was the only way to have Isobel, he had to consider it might be his only choice. Still, he didn’t believe Pembroke would want a Highlander to take his place should he die, or that Marcus’s child would someday hold the title and lands. For all that time, Marcus had corresponded with Isobel as well. Though it was rare for Highlanders—and many of the English and Normans did not know how to read or write—Isobel’s mother had learned, and she had been adamant that both Isobel and Marcus acquire the craft so they could send missives to each other to keep in touch.
    Thankfully, Pembroke had allowed the correspondence between them to continue. Marcus often thought he did so because it was easier to keep them apart that way. Pembroke had to know that if he had not allowed them to write to one another, Marcus would have showed up in person. If someone had tried to kill him again?
    More skirmishes would have ensued. Better to keep the peace this way. Marcus didn’t mind, well, overmuch, that her da was breaking the seals on her missives to Marcus, nor that he did the same with Marcus’s letters to Isobel, as evidenced by Lord Pembroke’s seal affixed to both—as long as they were allowed to correspond.
    Following the hunt that morn and while his people who had grievances gathered to speak with him about them, Marcus once more read Isobel’s words.
    My beloved,
    Even though my father has said I must soon see the men who wish to court me, he has made no mention of a pending date. I think he is softening his views to allow us to wed. Though you know the way he is. He will not say so in so many words, but he has mentioned about his nephew, John, a number of times. I believe if he allows the two of us to wed and me to leave here, my cousin will fill my place should my father no longer wish to manage the estate. ‘Tis good news, aye? With all my heart and forever yours, Isobel
    Finbar stalked into the great hall, his dark blond hair disheveled, his blue eyes shifting to the missive in Marcus’s hands. His cousin knew the only missives he ever received were sent by messenger from Isobel.
    “The first of our clansman wishes to lodge a complaint about one of the sheep herders allowing his sheep to graze near his cottage. And the others are all waiting to see you.”
    “Aye, call them in.”
    Finbar did so, and his people lined up one by one to hear how he would resolve their difficulties with their neighbors or family members.
    He had only listened to two complaints when he heard footfalls in a rush headed for the great hall. Thinking it was another clansman with a gripe, who worried he’d missed the time that Marcus had set aside for dealing with the issues, he listened to the next one.
    When Marcus saw a red-faced Rob hurrying to see him, and a quick comment to those waiting in line that they must vacate the great hall at once, Marcus raised his brows at him.
    It was not Rob’s place to send his people away. At once, Marcus knew the matter had to be of grave importance for him to do so. Still, his people did not vacate the room, moving somewhat toward the doorway, but still waiting to hear if Marcus wished them gone.
    Marcus motioned to them to leave. “Go. I will see to your complaints as soon as I can.”
    “Not today, but several days from now,” Rob said.
    Marcus lifted his head a bit. This did not sound good. “We will let you know when I can meet with you again.”
    “Aye, laird,” several said and made their way slowly out of the great hall.
    He was certain they wished to learn what the trouble was as much as Marcus did.
    “What is the difficulty, Rob?”
    “Lord Pembroke’s daughter could be in grave danger, Marcus,” Rob warned, his blue eyes flashing with indignation as he paced about the great hall, his hair unkempt as if he’d been