Anna Campbell

The Highlander’s Christmas Lassie

PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED IN THE MULTI-AUTHOR ANTHOLOGY HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE SCANDAL (October 2020)

Young love torn apart.

As teenagers, Malcolm Innes and Rhona Macleod fell passionately in love. But Malcom’s parents were horrified to think of the aristocratic heir to Dun Carron marrying a humble crofter’s daughter. Desperate to crush the affair, they locked Malcolm up and exiled Rhona to London where she disappears. But Malcolm is faithful and stubborn and devotes his life to searching for his beloved and the child she was carrying when they were cruelly separated.  

A chance to mend two shattered lives.

On a snowy Christmas Eve, Rhona opens the door of her isolated farmhouse to find the man she never thought to see again, the man who betrayed her. When she was pregnant with his son, Malcolm abandoned her to find her way alone in a cold, heartless world. Now she discovers that her long-held hatred is based on lies and that he’s been true to her. Yet surely after all these years, it’s too late to awaken the love that once united them.

As Christmas Eve turns into Christmas Day, Malcolm and Rhona discover that their mutual desire has never died. Will this Yuletide reunion lead to a lifetime together? Or has old tragedy ruptured their bond forever?

An international ebook release 19th April 2021.

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Muirburgh, The Trossachs, Scotland, Christmas Eve, 1824

Malcolm crossed the snowy yard to the impressive door, decorated with an elaborate wreath of holly and ribbons. He raised the heavy lion-head knocker, and his gut tightened with suspense as the summons echoed inside.

There was a delay before anyone answered. While he waited on the front step, Malcolm pulled down his hat, stamped his feet, and wrapped his arms around himself to warm up.

Or perhaps it only felt like a long wait because he was half-mad with anticipation.

At last he heard a latch lift. The door opened on a lamplit hallway, adorned with branches of pine and holly.

“Good evening, sir.”

Malcolm hardly heard the greeting as his heart began to pound. Before him stood a tall youth. A tall youth who wore the same face he saw in the mirror every morning when he shaved.

“By God…” he choked out.

Behind the lad, a slender woman appeared, a mixing bowl in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. A smiling woman with rich red hair and a face that was a fairer sight than bluebells in an April wood.

A woman Malcolm hadn’t seen since he was eighteen years old.

“Who is it, Patrick?” she asked, her voice warm. “Has one of our neighbors called to wish us the best for the season?”

The world receded in a dizzying rush, stealing the strength from Malcolm’s legs. To save himself from falling, he reached out a shaking hand to grab the lintel.

“Rhona?” he forced out of a tight throat.

Under his dazed gaze, she stopped in her tracks and went as pale as the snow outside. Her lovely green eyes widened with shock and her smile evaporated. “Malcolm?”

He gripped the post tighter, in too much turmoil to know exactly what he felt. “They told me you were dead.”

From that moment, the icy hand of despair had descended on him and it had never lifted.

Until now.

He realized that a ray of bright joy pierced the fog of churning emotion inside him. He’d never come to terms with losing Rhona. She’d left a jagged wound in his life that had refused to mend.

To his bewilderment, instead of reacting with happiness or astonishment or curiosity, her porcelain-white face closed against him. He glimpsed a flash of what looked like hatred in her eyes.

“To you, Malcolm Innes, I am dead.” Her voice was colder than the wind whistling around his ears. “Shut the door, Patrick. This man isn’t welcome in my house.”