Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero Read Online Free PDF

chambers now, my lord?”
    “Aye,” he said coldly, not taking well to her dismissal. “You will spend time with Lord Fenton at nooning on the morrow.”
    “As you wish.” Her voice was a choked whisper. She did not kiss her father’s cheek as she always did when retiring for the night, although it was way too early for her to be abed when guests were below in the great hall waiting for her return. She could not suffer to see their smug looks when her heart was near bursting with sorrow at the way Marcus had been sent away so unkindly. She turned to leave.
    “You will have an escort at all times, my daughter.”
    Her back to her father, she spoke to the floor covered in rushes. “Mary. Of course.”
    “And one of my men.”
    In disbelief, she turned and stared at her father. “What?”
    “For your protection, daughter.”
    He knew her too well. She would leave now before he gave word to his advisor to have one of his men watch her.
    “My safety,” she said, feigning ignorance.
    “Aye. You are all I have, daughter. Had you been a son, I would not be having this discussion. Now you must marry and provide an heir, before I am no longer here. I will secure a future for your son before I would leave this world.”
    She took a deep, steadying breath, realizing not only did he care about his title and estates, but about her welfare. Yet, marrying one of the English lords would not make her happy. Still, did he know something she didn’t? That he was unwell? “You…you are not ill, are you, father?”
    “Nay.”
    She ground her teeth. Fine. Then the truth mayhap would sway him. “Know this, since Lord Fenton is one of the men who wishes to court me, I will tell you then that I broke his nose when I was three and ten.” She watched for any change in her father’s expression. When his eyes widened, she thought he didn’t believe her. Or he did and he couldn’t believe she’d do something so violent to a prospective suitor when they were younger. “He said my mother was naught but a Highland heathen and whore.”
    His face reddening, he clenched his teeth so hard, he looked like he would break his jaw, but he still did not say a word.
    “Do you think if he weds me, he would not seek retribution? That he would not think me beneath him because I am my mother’s daughter with Highland blood coursing through me?”
    “I will make it known to him that he is no longer able to court you. I will add Lord Wynfield to the list instead, who has confided in me many times over that he wishes your hand as well.”
    “Your seneschal?” As if there was another. “Lord Wynfield? He is more than twice my age. Surely you jest.”
    Her father shook his head. “The baron is a good man and mayhap you need an older man to take you in hand.”
    “Are we done, Father?” She didn’t wait for him to reply, but tore out of his solar and into the corridor where Sir Travon waited. Her heart tripped at the sight of the knight. Except for earlier when he accompanied Sir Halloran, who forced her to return to the castle, he was usually very cordial toward her, and always had a smile for her. She suspected he would have loved to wed her, not just for the title, but because he cared for her. But her father would never consider him because of his low rank.
    Her father couldn’t have already told his men she was to be guarded at all times.
    She hurried to her chambers, hoping the knight had some business with her father, but his footfalls a few steps behind her told her otherwise.
    She turned and stopped, her action so unexpected, Sir Travon nearly ran into her. “Did you wish something of me?” she asked, her voice sharp and on edge.
    Appearing not in the least bit bothered by her harshness, he shook his head. “Only following orders.” He gave her a crooked smile.
    She shut herself up in her chamber, vowing to find a way out of this nightmare. She would not wed one of the Englishmen or Normans seeking her hand.
    The door opened and