Highland Sparks:Logan and Gwyneth

By: Keira Montclair

(Clan Grant Series Book 5)

Note to the Reader


As you begin to read this novel, you may notice some similarities. You may even think you have read it before. If so, you’re not wrong. There are parts of this novel in which the dialogue is exactly the same as in Robbie and Caralyn’s story in JOURNEY TO THE HIGHLANDS.

Logan and Gwyneth met in JOURNEY TO THE HIGHLANDS when Logan left the Grant keep in search of Robbie Grant. This scene was in Robbie’s story from Robbie’s point-of-view. I needed you to see the same scene from Logan and Gwyneth’s point-of-view. This means the dialogue will be the same, but the descriptions and thoughts will be different.

I apologize and hope this doesn’t make the story drag for you, but I felt it was imperative to see how these scenes played out and how they affected their relationship. It wouldn’t be an accurate representation of their connection without a closer look at when they met and how it affected each of them. Take note that this is true of the first scenes only.

Enjoy! I hope you love Logan and Gwyneth’s journey.

Keira Montclair

Chapter One

October, 1263

South Ayrshire, Scotland

Gwyneth of the Cunningham smiled as she thought about how well she had done at the butts. Her father, who’d first taught her how to nock, draw, and release an arrow, would have been so proud. How she missed her da and her brother Gordon. They had held such fierce competitions, and even though she’d lost most of the time, it had improved her skills as an archer. She picked up her pace so she could find her younger brother, Father Rab, to tell him of her good fortune for the day.

As she approached the back door to the Kirk, a rustling in the bushes startled her a few seconds before two sets of strong arms picked her up and pinned her to the ground. She tried to scream, but a gag was stuffed in her mouth, stifling the words she wished to shout: Help me, please! Someone help me. Who are you?

She kicked and squirmed with everything she had, but to no avail. One vile brute held her arms while the other pinned her legs. The smell of fish invaded her nostrils.

She prayed for her brother to step outside or for anyone in the area to assist her. But it was dusk, and the men wore dark clothes. Bystanders would have to be close to realize what was afoot. Even Gwyneth could barely make out the looks of them. The lout at her feet tied her legs together.

“Och, ‘tis a feisty one, is she no’? I’d like a wee taste of this one.” The smelly one at her head spoke first.

“Keep your shaft between your legs. Duff will skin you alive if you touch her. He says she still has her maidenhead.” The name made her buck and kick even harder. Seven long years ago, she had watched her father and brother die at the hands of Duff Erskine. He was her one sworn enemy.

Smelly guffawed. “Well, I would no’ mind checking for him.”

The second attacker finished tying her legs before nodding to his partner. “Shut up before someone hears you, fool. Tie her hands together so we can get moving. The boat leaves shortly.”

Gwyneth panicked. The boat? As in a boat to send her off from the docks? Where were they sending her? Her heartbeat sped up as her vision dimmed.

“You know Duff makes ten times the coin for a lass whose maidenhead is intact.” He grinned at her as she continued to fight against her bindings. “Whoever buys this one in the East will have a challenge taming her.”

Her maidenhead? The East? What were they talking about?

A chill ran up her spine as cold sweat drenched her body. All the possibilities—one worse than the next—raced through her mind as her eyes searched the area for someone, anyone, to help her. Not paying any heed to the desperation, the two men tossed her in a horse-drawn cart like she was a sack of flour and covered her with a scratchy blanket. At the last minute, her bow landed beside her.

“Why’d you do that?” Smelly asked the second man.

“Duff says he can sell any weapon. He’ll make coin off her bow and quiver.”

Screaming through the gag, she bucked with all her might, but no one came to her rescue. Angry tears slid down her cheeks at her own powerlessness. All the training in the world with her bow and arrow would not help her now.

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