Read The Laird of Stonehaven for Free Online

Blair’s hearing. “Treat the lass well, Campbell, else ye’ll answer to me.”
    “I dinna abuse women,” Graeme said, “but I willna allow the lass to cast spells or summon spirits.”
    Just then Heath hailed Graeme, forestalling Lachlan’s reply. ’Twas time to go.
    “Good-bye, Father Lachlan,” Graeme called as he mounted his horse and led the small party away from Gairloch.
    Blair’s back hurt and her legs were chafed, but somehow she managed to keep up with Graeme. She knew how to ride, of course, but had never ridden any great distance before. When night fell they made a rough camp, but they were up again and in the saddle soon after dawn.
    Had Blair not been so distraught, she would have appreciated the majestic mountain peaks rising above them and the carpet of purple heather blooming on the moors. She couldn’t recall ever traveling so far from Gairloch. Because of her powers, her father had been unwilling to let her venture beyond the village.
    “We’re nearly home,” Graeme said, riding back to join her. “Keep looking toward the west and you’ll see Stonehaven’s towers. Stonehaven isna as grand as your father’s keep, but you should find it comfortable.”
    Blair spotted the square towers situated on a spit of land that jutted out into Loch Torridon a few minutes later. Stonehaven might not be as grand as Gairloch, but it was nevertheless impressive with its thick walls and iron portcullis guarding the keep. As they rode through the village of neat cottages clustered outside the gate, the cotters came from their houses to stare at her.
    Their expressions, ranging from sullen to frightened to downright hostile, did not bode well for her. Blair was not immune to the whispers trailing in their wake, but if Graeme heard them he gave no hint of it. It appeared her undeserved reputation had preceded her, for the word “witch” struck her over and over like physical blows.
    “Pay them no heed, lass,” Alyce advised as she rode up beside her. “They’ll soon change their minds.”
    “Graeme must know what his people think of me,” Blair lamented. “Why did Father do this to me?”
    “Ye know why,” Alyce maintained. “Give it time, Blair. Things will change.”
    They passed through the raised portcullis and rode across the bailey to the front steps of the keep. Graeme dismounted and lifted Blair from her horse while Heath assisted Alyce.
    “Welcome to your new home, Blair,” Graeme said.
    The sturdy oaken door opened as they started up the stairs. Graeme’s uncle, Stuart Campbell, stepped out to greet them.
    “That didna take long, Nephew. I’m glad ye managed to avoid wedding the witch.” His appreciative glance found Blair and lingered. “Who is this lass? Did one of MacArthur’s kinswomen catch yer eye? She’s a comely wench. Glenda will be a wee bit jealous, but she had ye to herself too long.”
    Graeme sent Stuart a warning look and cleared his throat, hoping to stop his uncle’s prattle. Unfortunately, Stuart seemed oblivious to Graeme’s admonition.
    “Are ye going to introduce me to the lass, lad?”
    “Cease your blathering, Uncle,” Graeme said. “If you let me get a word in edgewise, I’ll introduce you to my wife. Blair, this is my uncle, Stuart Campbell—a more talkative mon you’ll never meet. Uncle, this is Blair, Douglas MacArthur’s daughter and my wife. We were wed yesterday.”
    Stuart lurched backward as if struck. “Ye wed the witch? What is she, a changeling? What happened to her hooked nose and straggly black hair? Where is the wart?”
    “The stories about Blair were wildly exaggerated. My wife is a healer, not a witch. And as you can see, she is beautiful.”
    “A changeling,” Stuart muttered.
    Hands on hips, Alyce stepped forward, shielding Blair from Stuart’s view. “Keep yer opinions to yerself, old mon. My lassie is sweet and good, better than the likes of ye. Hurt her and ye’ll have me to answer to.”
    “Who are you?” Stuart