The Passion of London [Highlander's Love #1]

Chapter 2 - Photo of Connor

Shifting uncomfortably in his saddle, anyone who had taken a look at Connor Gilroy would've thought he was new to the saddle at the way he kept twitching in it. But looks could be deceiving, and Hammond MacKenzie knew better. He had grown up with Connor after all, ever since his father had taken him in and literally brought them up like siblings. Hammond loved his sister, but Gillian had been a girl through and through, so it was Hammond and Connor that had ran up and down the Highlands surrounding the MacKenzie lands like two ragamuffins set loose. While Hammond loved Gillian dearly, he and Connor were brother in arms, knowing each other inside and out.

Which was why Hammond casted Connor a scowl when his first in command shifted again, much to his consternation. "Would you keep still Connor? Anyone would think you're a greenie in a saddle, with the way you keep moving." the chieftain of the MacKenzie clan admonished, getting a darker scowl in return. 

"You know I dinna want to come, Hammond. I'm only here because you asked me to."

"I know, and I'll be forever grateful to you, but if you're going to be continuing this way, I'll leave you where you are."

"Why must we come for her anyway? If she's managed to survive the last few years alone, I'm sure she dinna need our help." Connor complained. He couldn't help it. While he was a generally easy going man, being back on English lands made him uneasy, not at all liking the fact that his feet was treading on English soil. After all, the last time he was here as a lad almost twenty years ago, he would've been skinned alive had it not been for Hammond's father, the old Chief of the clan.

Quinlan MacKenzie is possibly the kindest man Connor would ever know. He had taken in Connor as a boy of 10, trained him alongside his son, and when he recognized his vigor, specifically brought him up to be first in command. Connor served the MacKenzie clan with both the loyalty and ferociousness that was unrivalled, and everyone in the clan knew his word was second only to the chief. 

"You know what I promised Dad, you heard him yerself. I canna go against my word to a dead man. Besides, I have to admit, I'm verra curious meself." Hammond's last sentence was given with a waggle of his brows and a lecherous smirk. Connor rolled his eyes and smacked his best friends shoulder. "Might I remind you that she's yer cousin, Hammond. Don't make a fool of yourself."

"What, I can't just take a look?" Connor laughed, knowing that he meant what he said and no harm would come out of it. Hammond was as playful as a puppy, but with a firm hand, he ruled the clan well and was as respected as his father. The leadership of the clan had been passed on to Hammond upon the old chief's deathbed,  dying from a broken heart and injuries sustained from a deadly attack by their rival Drummond clan. Quinlan MacKenzie had been a fearsome warrior, but age had dulled his senses, resulting in him taking multiple wounds that he never recovered from. 

Hammond still warred with the Drummonds, but with both sides recuperating from their last skirmish, a temporary but uneasy truce has been called. Which was why they had finally found the time to travel into the borders between Scotland and England, to finally fulfil his father's wishes to find his sister's daughter upon his deathbed, just two years before. The moment Quinlan MacKenzie had breathed his last breath, Hammond had sent out scouts to search for his mysterious cousin, but only got results a year later. They had to wait another year to defend their keep from the Drummond's consistent attacks, before they finally found the time to come out.

In a way, Hammond viewed it as a holiday of sorts, but Connor was acting like a caged animal the whole time. Even with twenty men at their back, and his claymore strapped tightly against his thigh, just being on English soil alone was unnerving to Connor, for he hadn't stepped foot in it since the day his chief had saved him.