The Chieftain's Yule Bride - a Highland Christmas novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions #10) by Jonnet Carmichael Read Free Book Online Page B

minstrel.  I recognized the brushstrokes, the style.  My Auntie Harper has some of his landscapes.  He was the last of the true Harpers, the ones who played clarsach around the country.  He must have been here.  And he painted a lot on his travels to make extra money.  But he only ever did landscapes.  Or so we thought."
    "Mystery solved, then."
    "Some of it.  I've been seeing portraits of your clan chiefs going back how many years?  About five centuries or more?  None of them look exactly like you beyond some family resemblance.  I mean, they're all very tall, and the warrior muscles and the black hair and dark eyes are there, but they're not you."
    She'd noticed that much?
    "...That's the weird part, you see.  How could he know that a girl would be born looking exactly like me, the way I wear my hair and everything?  It's like he invented me.  It can't be coincidence."
    "Likely not."
    The way she was staring up at him, so intense in her telling, those pale blue eyes so bright...
    "And it doesn't explain why I recognized you too, Callum MacKrannan."
    He ran a hand over the back of his neck.  "No."
    She leaned in closer to speak low. "And there's something funny about that room with the Celtic carvings.  You know there is.  It got to you too, didn't it?"
    He cocked his head.  "Maybe."
    "Are there more rooms like that in the castle?"
    She took his lack of answer for an aye, and laughed.  "My Auntie Harper would freak out in there."
    "Would she now... does she collect Celtic deities as well?"
    "Oh she has them all, and more than one of some.  Her favorite is the Cailleach.  Nine of her along the mantelpiece.  But it doesn't take one of the northern fey to sense the atmosphere in that room of yours.  Not anything bad, though.  Is it because the portrait was in there?"
    He stepped away from her then and looked at his wristwatch.  Had to, or he'd have pulled her in for a good kissing and damn the consequences.
    "Want to come and meet Tara now?"
    "If she's the one in charge of the honeymead, yes, I do.  But I'd like to talk more about this later.  Unless you have other commitments?"
    There was a glint in her eye that told him what she was really asking.  Did he have something more important waiting at home, such as a wife.
    "My commitments are to my clan and to keeping my guests happy.  In that order.  But the clan are managing fine."
    Maybe he should ask her about the theme for the wedding.  Or maybe no'.  Let her be the one to tell him what she wanted.  Besides, it would no' be happening anyway.  He'd let it play out until the last minute, just to make sure she didn't go off and book it elsewhere, but Freya Harper would belong to none but himself.
    That became his want when he'd twice carried her in his arms upstairs, and a bloody certainty when he'd seen her lying on his bed in the room he'd used until last year.  It had taken much willpower for him no' to lie down with her there and then, and kiss her and touch her and lick every bit of her until it was something far better than shock that made her faint.
    MacKrannans only ever wed for love.  All except his own people would expect him to marry an heiress to bring the millions needed for the upkeep of a castle like this.  No' happening.  Never met a supremely rich lass yet who would survive a day in his clan.
    Freya Harper was the one for him.  His gift.  The Fair Lass of Monlachan was off to a fine start as wife to the future Chief of MacKrannan with her knowledge of Celtic deities and a spey-wife for a grandmother.  He could no' have asked for better.
    First he needed to get her off hotel grounds so that she stopped being his customer. 
    He led her into the Brewery offices and Tara came to greet them in her white labcoat and hairnet.  She made a show of holding up Freya's hand to the light to see her engagement ring and he saw her sneaking in much palm-reading while she was at it.
    "The bees are settling down nicely this morning,