Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

eve.”
    Duncan sometimes stepped above himself. And his arrogant manner didn’t soothe her in the least. Mostly, it reminded her of MacKerry in the dungeon. Men, she thought with heavy exasperation, were just lads in a body of brawn, they were.
    “I’ll see what the bag holds myself.” She went to lift the bag from the table, yet Duncan placed his meaty hand upon it, deterring her action.
    “The council is waiting for ye, laird.” He grabbed the bag. “They want to be seeing ye.”
    “Did any of them look in the bag?”
    He frowned. “Not that I ken.”
    Hope suppressed a sigh and followed her cousin. The earlier pleasure she wrought from the freshened hall shifted into a crushing headache. God save her from the council. She’d let them hold their meeting, then she’d announce her plans.
    As they strode toward the upper level of the keep, she walked with heavy steps. Her heart overwhelmed by grief and responsibility. She must put these melancholy thoughts aside. For the good of the clan, she must remain as laird. Hope shuddered to think what would happen if the council proclaimed someone else as Laird of Clan MacAlister. The council was ruthless and responsible for so much death in the past and she feared more would die. Just as she worried their folly had contributed to her father’s death. She’d been able to keep them in line, albeit with the help of her mother, but they wouldn’t decide against their laird, the clan would reject such actions.
    And with Clan Mungo once again making threats and encroaching on their borders, Hope kenned they needed to remain strong, but strong didn’t mean the clan needed to go to war. Her men were trained, ready if needed. But she’d not mindlessly engage their enemy.
    The sound of the clash which felled her father filled her mind. Metal against metal. Agonizing screams. Lightning strikes. Booming thunder. Her mother’s cries. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Never would she forget those sounds, they’d haunt her until the day she died.
    No, she thought with a firm clench of her hands, they mustn’t gain control. Hope would not allow them to remove her from the lairdship. No matter what her father’s decree demanded, she still had time.
    “I’ll stay here, laird.” Duncan stepped to the side of the broad doorway. He tipped his head, then handed her the leather saddlebag.
    She accepted the bag, inhaling the scent of leather, horse and a hint of soap. This belonged to MacKerry. They truly had no right to inspect it. Aye, they did, she corrected. She was laird. Mayhap, he had nefarious goals or was a spy. And if a spy was about, that meant an enemy clan was ready to challenge them, such as the night her father died. Clan Mungo had raided and Clan MacAlister had responded with vengeance. Yet, the vengeance led to the death of many including her father. Even though MacKerry wore the MacKerry tartan, it didn’t mean he wasn’t spying for Mungo. She’d have to investigate further to ensure the safety of her clan. Having the man close, the man she was to wed, would make things easier.
    “Ye may enter,” a grave voice said.
    She rolled her eyes heavenward-aye, she had the right to enter regardless of what Liam thought. She held the leather bag tight in her grip. Liam MacAlister sat at the head of the long table with Connor, Ian, and Stephen flanking his side. Pewter cups of ale before them, the men’s ruddy faces looked as if they’d been in intense discussion.
    Connor, the youngest at five and forty, ran his thick fingers through his graying hair. His gaze avoided Hope’s. Unease settled within her as she caught her lip between her teeth.
    “Ah, m’laird ,” Liam said with a sardonic edge to his voice. “Please sit.”
    “If you would kindly get out of my seat, I will,” she said with a heavy dose of disapproval. “’Tis the Laird’s chair, Liam.”
    Ian and Stephen blanched as Connor chuckled. Liam rose and motioned toward the chair with a broad sweep of his