An Eager Widow [Highland Menage 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Highland Menage 5

  An Eager Widow

  Without a husband Kiera MacKenzie cannot get to her dower land, far from those with memories of her misdeeds. She refuses suitors after her dowry rather than herself. Her father, Laird MacKenzie, sends her high in the hills hoping she'll come to her senses before autumn. When a tall, dark stranger arouses her far more than her late unlamented husband, Kiera decides to seduce him.

  Identical twins Malcolm and Duff MacDougal have been invited by Laird MacKenzie to spend the summer learning from the wealthy clan. MacKenzie asks Duff if he'd be interested in marrying a young widow, implying her dowry would include a wee home and plot of land, something the brothers have dreamed of. When Duff sees her size and experiences her cutting wit he is eager to be seduced.

  Kiera does not tell Duff who she is. He does not tell her Malcolm will wish to share their wife. And then all their plans unravel…

  Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/ Quatre

  Length: 44,321 words

  AN EAGER WIDOW

  Highland Menage 5

  Reece Butler

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  AN EAGER WIDOW

  Copyright © 2015 by Reece Butler

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-388-7

  First E-book Publication: June 2015

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of An Eager Widow by Reece Butler from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

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  This is Reece Butler’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Reece Butler’s right to earn a living from her work.

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  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  To Carol for her helpful input regarding spinning and weaving. There is such a wealth of information on the Internet but it takes one who actually understands the “how” of it, to get it right.

  As always, anything incorrect is my error.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  AN EAGER WIDOW

  Highland Menage 5

  REECE BUTLER

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  “Jesu! Ye are like two peas in a pod!”

  Duff MacDougal grinned at the old man. He radiated such total confidence and authority that he could be none other than Laird MacKenzie, tenth Lord of Kintail and the master of more land than any other in the Highlands.

  Duff and his twin had never been far from Duncladach until invited to learn from this far more prosperous clan. Their guide had led them to this meadow, and to the man who’d determine their actions until spring.

  MacKenzie looked back and forth from Duff to Malcolm with shrewd eyes. “Cormac and James are much like ye. Can aught tell ye apart in the dark?”

  “Gillis has red hair and Finn is blond,” said Duff. “The rest of us are dark with blue eyes, like our father.”

  “And ye’re all braw laddies?”

  “The youngest two haven’t filled out yet, but aye, we run to tall, dark, and handsome.” Duff grinned, playing the fool as usual. “Except for him.” He tilted his head to point to his identical twin. “He’s the ugly one.”

  “I told ye to keep yer trap shut,” said Malcolm, finally speaking.

  MacKenzie’s face cleared. “Ah, ye got a scar on yer chin and the other doesna. Be ye Duff or Malcolm?”

  “He’s Duff,” said Malcolm. “Thank ye for bringing us here to serve ye, Laird MacKenzie. My younger brother acts the fool but he can swing a blade as well as the rest of us.”

  Duff rolled his eyes at the gruff reply, openly enough that MacKenzie noticed. They might be identical in looks but they were opposite in personality. He loved adventure, reacting as events unfolded. Malcolm was a rule follower, soberly worrying about what might happen. Meeting such an important man made his twin act even more stuck-up than usual.

  Duff didn’t care what people thought. He did what was right and would not compromise his principles. They’d grown up with so little he’d decided to grab as much fun along the way as he could. Though he enjoyed life he never shirked. Since they were always together they balanced each other out.

  When the laird kept frowning, looking for differences, Malcolm slowly lifted his bent right arm, keeping an open hand to prove he held no blade. He pushed his sleeve back to show a raised scar on his forearm.

  “I bear the mark of the older twin,” he said stiffly.

  Duff rolled his eyes, catching the attention of MacKenzie. “And I bear the mark of the one who got bashed into a stone wall headfirst,” he drawled. He tilted his head to better show the mark alon
g his jaw. It was easy to see as they’d shaved that morning, taking advantage of the hospitality at Lovat Castle to look their best.

  “Did yer twin do that to ye?”

  “Can’t rightly remember,” replied Duff. “We were having a wee tussle with Cormac and James at the time.” He frowned, scratching his head as if thinking was a difficult task for him. “Angus and Gillis joined in, and then the wee lads Zander and Artair got in a few punches. Mayhaps Tearlach and Rory hauled Gillis off me afore all went black.”

  MacKenzie’s bark of laughter startled the birds in the trees. “James said there was sixteen of ye MacDougals. Ye got in a few scraps, aye?”

  “Aye, we scrapped, and we wagered over everything, Laird MacKenzie,” said Duff, grinning back. “From who threw their knives best to which spider would climb the wall first.”

  “That time he went into a corner, hitting his chin and the back of his head,” said Malcolm. “He tells the lasses he got the scar while killing a dozen Campbells. Single-handed, of course,” he added drily.

  Duff was impressed Malcolm had unbent enough to joke with the man holding their futures over his head. Laird Fraser had told them MacKenzie enjoyed a good laugh. Getting on his good side could help their chances for a better life.

  “And then,” said Duff, leaning forward as if to give a secret, “I say I’ve got a bigger scar, but I’d have to lift my plaid to show them.” He winked, making the laird roar again.

  “He willna be doing that here, Laird MacKenzie,” added Malcolm. He gave Duff the same warning look he’d been using all their lives. “We willna dishonor our clan, or yers.”

  Duff grinned back as it made his brother scowl. MacKenzie eyed them a moment before nodding briskly.

  “Malcolm, ye’ll be off to Castle Leod. Cormac and James are waitin’ to have a wee chat afore they leave for Caithness with their wife.” He set his eagle eyes and hawk nose on Duff. “I have a wee task for this one.”

  It was Cormac and James’s connection with MacKenzie’s son and heir, Colin, that got them the invitation. Their older brothers had protected Colin as best they could while fostering in Caithness. It had forged a bond that had now borne fruit.

  “Thank ye, Laird MacKenzie,” said Malcolm. He gave Duff another stern look of warning.

  Of course Duff had to grin back as if wishing to get in as much trouble as possible. His older twin wouldn’t be happy unless he was worried. Malcolm mounted and rode off, meeting a silent guard as he left the clearing. MacKenzie watched him go before turning to Duff.

  “Yer twin has a wee stick up his arse, aye? Not that he thinks too much of hisself, but that he thinks others willna judge him well, so gives them naught to aim at.”

  Duff nodded at MacKenzie’s assessment, which was spot-on. The old man was known to be wily, an excellent judge of people and how to manipulate them.

  “Aye, Laird. And Malcolm thinks if he canna watch me I’ll dally with the lassies, dice away what little I have with the lads, and make a thorough fool of myself.”

  “And would ye?”

  Duff was about to reply with his usual flippancy when he realized the laird was serious.

  “We are MacDougals,” he said bluntly. “We willna cheat, lie, steal, go back on an oath, or make a bastard.” That got him a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, his lip twitching. “Mind ye, if a widow wishes a wee bit of fun I willna say nay, but there are ways to keep from making a bairn.”

  Somerled, their oldest brother and laird, had made it clear from the time they were lads that no MacDougal bastards would be born this generation. Their father had made eight of them, and that was enough.

  “James said ye’d be glad to find a wife.”

  “Aye, but who would have us?” He raised his hands in a shrug. “Malcolm wishes for a wee croft but we can offer naught but our strong backs and sword arms. ‘Tisn’t likely a lass would take one of us, much less two. Ye ken we MacDougals marry in pairs?”

  “Aye, yer brothers spent the summer here. Their wee wife Alana is happy with two husbands. ‘Tis all that matters.” His expression changed again, to a leer. “From the screams of joy all hear from their chamber, and elsewhere, methinks MacDougals offer a lass more than a back and arms.”

  The tips of Duff’s ears suddenly burned. He dropped his head and shuffled his feet. Their father had been known for pleasuring women, ignoring his sons too often to do so. Though none of them had much experience they made sure the woman reached her peak at least once before they found their release.

  “Aye, well, there’s a reason my father had sixteen sons from eight different women, though he married but two of ‘em,” he muttered.

  MacKenzie’s laugh boomed once more.

  “What of this task ye wish me to do?”

  The laird winced as if reminded of something he’d rather not do. He scratched his beard with a thumbnail. “‘Tis sommat I canna ask a MacKenzie to do,” he admitted.

  Was that why they’d been called to travel the width of Scotland, to do a chore so bad the laird couldn’t ask his own men to do it? Duff straightened. It didn’t matter what the laird needed. He and Malcolm had little to lose but their lives and their pride. They would give up their lives before the other. He met the assessing stare.

  “My laird Somerled said we were to learn whatever we could and do whatever ye asked, be that cleaning yer garderobe or seducing yer foe’s daughter.” He broke eye contact and tugged at his left ear. “Well, Somerled didn’t quite say that last bit. We will do yer bidding as long as it doesna go against the MacDougal clan. So, Laird, what task would ye have me do?”

  MacKenzie looked into the forest. “There’s a widow what needs yer help. She’s alone on her sheiling up in the hills for the summer, spinning her wool and all.”

  “Can a MacKenzie not help her? Or is she a cackling auld besom said to be a witch that yer men are afraid of her evil eye?”

  “‘Tis not an evil eye so much as her bitter tongue and temper,” he admitted. “Though she does have a look mean enough to stomp a man down.”

  Unlike many, he and his brothers valued women as the few they’d known were smart and caring. If a woman had a temper and bitter tongue she may well have reasons for it. Torquil, one of a half-dozen brothers five years his senior, hadn’t always been quiet. He’d changed after being tortured by the Campbells as a lad. His massive scars had healed but his wounded spirit never recovered.

  Many old women were good cooks. He could put up with a crotchety old besom in return for good food. Perhaps kind words would change her. If not, at least he wouldn’t be hungry.

  “Ye wish me to keep an old widow company for the summer? Help her with her goats, cheese-making, and the like?”

  The gleam of humor in the laird’s eyes warned him something was off.

  “She’s a widow, but I didna say her age. The lass is a MacKenzie so ‘tis up to me to find her a husband.” His humor faded. “She’s tall, has a sharp tongue and a temper, and refuses to obey any but her laird. She’s a weaver and has been well educated. She looks down on most men, with her height as well as her scorn. No Mackenzie will have her.” He raised a shrewd eyebrow. “Ye said ye wish a wife, and yer brothers said Malcolm wishes to have a wee croft. This lass has a dowry of a home and enough of a living to keep the three of ye and yer bairns from starving.”

  It was Duff’s turn to look into the forest. He and his brothers had come close to starving more than a few winters. It was why Somerled had sent as many pairs of brothers out to foster as he could. They’d not been lucky so had stayed home. The possibility of a wife and a home of their own, one where hunger was known but not starvation, make his eyes prickle.

  They would tolerate much for the chance of such a future.

  “Was she harmed by her husband? If she canna stand the touch of a man—”

  MacKenzie waved away his concern. “Nay, she eloped with a fool who broke his neck not two moons after they wed. She’s headstrong as her da didn’t make her listen while a lassie. �
�Twill be up to her husband to curb her. Or husbands.”

  Duff looked closely at MacKenzie, assessing him. Malcolm had been the one to do all the sizing up in the past, but he wasn’t stupid. There was something bothering the laird about this, but he was known as a man of his word.

  Laird MacKenzie was also a wily fox who carefully chose those words.

  They’d joked about finding their fortune far from Duncladach. No matter how ugly this widow, how much she complained or if she was lame or blind, she offered more than they’d thought possible. Having her educated made him cringe a bit. They could all read and write and do sums, but little more. They did play chess, using it as another way to battle their brothers. Having a smart, mouthy wife would bother Malcolm more than himself.

  But there were ways to calm a woman. MacDougals had a reputation for satisfying any woman they lay with. Gillis and Angus had visited Duncladach with Fiona and taught them much about wives. HIs wedded brothers said a few good orgasms would help any woman’s foul mood.

  Malcolm would have asked all sorts of questions to make sure they didn’t agree to something that would turn out badly. Duff couldn’t think of anything beyond having a warm home with food being stirred by a willing wife.

  “You sent Malcolm off so he’d not ken this,” he accused.

  “Aye. He didna seem to be one to seduce a lass with kind words, a smile, and a soft touch.” The laird gave him a brief glance. “The lass needs a man to care for her and make her laugh, one who will hold her in the night and make her feel safe. She also needs a man who will take charge of her. She has a strong will and needs a stronger husband. She’ll not respect a man who canna control her.”