The Bannockburn Spell
by Nancy Adams
With the help of a bet, an eight-hundred-year-old marriage contract, and a spell, ex-SBS soldier Will might just have enough in his arsenal to capture Meghan’s heart.
Since arriving in Little Glen, Scotland, Meghan Kennedy’s life has got decidedly more interesting. She enters into a bet with hunky ex-SBS soldier, William MacKenzie, discovers an ancient marriage contract and to top it all off, she learns that she had a spell cast on her…eight hundred years before she was even born. None of it matters, because she refuses to make the same mistake twice. Will’s hard body and sexy grin don’t matter, his beautiful hypnotic eyes don’t matter, and it doesn’t matter that every time they kiss her body calls out for his, as though denied of his touch for hundreds of years.
Ex-SBS soldier William MacKenzie is disciplined, trained to be an efficient soldier and he takes the same approach with his life as he does his business. Then Meghan arrives, with her fiery temper and hair to match, all he can think about is Meghan. Her feisty temper bemuses him, her beauty astounds him and her stubbornness annoys the hell out of him. Lucky for him, he doesn’t know how to quit, he can be just as stubborn and occasionally ruthless, and he will use any means necessary to get her. Of course the ‘means’ at his disposal just happen to be a bet, a marriage contract and an ancient spell, but if in the end Meghan belongs to him, who is he to argue?
“Another pint, Will?”
Will turned his head to see Hamish standing next to the table. “Sorry?”
Hamish threw a drying towel over his shoulder and slid into the opposite side of the booth. “Duncan told you about the contract?”
“You know about it?”
“Oh aye! When that there contract was first agreed upon, the other men present were ordered to help fulfil it.”
Exhaling he asked patiently, “What other men?”
“The MacGregor, the Campbell, the Ross, the Cameron. All lairds of their respective clans.”
Will felt his mouth drop open. “You, Ray and Stewart all know about this?”
Hamish raised his greying eyebrows and leaned his elbows onto the table. “Why do you think all our families are so close?”
Shit. Will sat back. It’s true. He had known each of those families his entire life, spending time with one or the other from as far back as he could remember.
“It’s been this way since the day that”—he pointed to the leather case—“was written.”
“Who gave the order?” Will studied the old leather.
Will levelled his gaze. “Pardon?”
“You heard me.” Hamish slid out of the booth. “Go home, read it in private. Then come back later. Rangers are at Dundee. The lads will be here.”
Will sat in the booth finishing off his pint before he left for the library. Once there, he flipped open the case and pulled the old parchment free. He spent an hour reading it, looking up words in Gaelic that he was unfamiliar with, marking them down on the copy he had made.
With doubt still lingering, he finished translating the contract and began searching through the National Archives website. Scrolling through the webpage, he caught sight of a formal document.
He recognised the first of the two names, Alasdair William MacKenzie. The second name was Fergus Kennedy, clearly Meghan’s relative. Scanning the document, he froze. It was identical to the contract sitting in front of him.
It was real. There was an eight-hundred-year-old marriage contract between the Kennedys and the MacKenzies. He studied the date again. It was signed June 1314. There was no way it was legitimate, it didn’t matter that it was his and Meghan’s names were on it. It was written eight hundred years ago, for a different Meghan and a different William. There was no way it was meant for him and Meghan…now…in this time.
Even if it was, it wouldn’t help his cause. Meghan had been in a relationship with a man who had manipulated her. He didn’t want to force her into a marriage, he wanted her to come willingly. He’d have to be patient with her. For how long though? This business with Meghan was driving him crazy. He was tormenting himself just as much as he was tormenting her. It was time he figured out a new strategy.
The reality suddenly struck him. “Fuck.” He leant back in the chair and rubbed the stiff muscles in his shoulders. Was he actually contemplating marriage to a woman who wanted nothing from him but his friendship? He shook his head. He must be out of his mind.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I am a full-blooded Canadian, right down to the maple syrup running through my veins. I enjoy watching hockey, but despise skating...and the cold. I enjoy a good helping of Tourtiere with a side of Poutine as must as the next person, yet I am only bilingual when it comes to swear words. I am proud to say I survived my token shot of Newfie Screech, although I did refuse to kiss the Cod - that is never going to happen - and I openly admit, that I fell in love with the Rocky Mountains the first time I saw them.
I have many occupations written down in my passport, mom, wife, author...zookeeper! However, I have to say that writing is by far the easiest part of my day.
I have three small -but legal- addictions: bed lines, lavender, and books. All of which, are replenished on a regular basis. Reading into the wee hours of the morning, is one of many bad habits, next to spontaneously rearranging furniture and randomly painting rooms in my house.
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