Brock spent three days feeding Joanna chicken broth and letting her drink water that had been boiled under Duncan's supervision. The cook was none too pleased, but she would adjust to his orders until he could figure out who was trying to harm his wife. There was a chance that Mrs. Tate was involved too, or the maid. What was her name? Maura? Yes, that was it. He'd rarely seen the girl; she was quiet and kept to herself. Once he discovered who was responsible, as the local magistrate, he would deal with the matter himself.On the fourth day, he lay sleeping fitfully next to her and woke to the feel of her kissing his forehead. He blinked, wondering if he could believe what he was seeing. Joanna was sitting up, her face no longer deathly pale and her eyes neither cloudy nor overbright."Lass?" The word came out hoarse on his tongue since he'd barely spoken in days except for brief words with Duncan."I feel better, so much better." She brushed his hair back from his eyes, and his thr
Joanna climbed out of the coach and looked about the village. It was only three miles from Castle Kincade, and it was larger than she expected. There was a milliner's, a modiste, a blacksmith shop, a bookstore, and a market with quite a few inns. Boxes full of brightly colored flowers sat just beneath every window. Purple florets bloomed from Scottish thistles mixed with the red bog myrtles, Scottish bluebells, and the bright-yellow gorse blooms.Brock noticed her studying the flower boxes as they passed by a window full of their fragrant scents."They keep the midges away." He chuckled and nodded to the bog myrtle."Midges?" Joanna hadn't heard the term before."Aye, you were lucky not to have seen a cloud of them yesterday while we rode. Wee biting beasties.""They're insects?" She cringed, not liking the idea of a cloud of tiny insects swarming her at all."They aren't everywhere, mainly around the livestock and in the fields far from towns. The females are the ones that bite
"Stop this at once!" Joanna shouted with a deep, furious voice. Her mother would've been proud of the way the towering Scots all stopped and stared at her."Well now, there's the lassie! Saved me the trouble of going in there after you." Ewan laughed, the sound cold and cutting. A flicker of apprehension coursed through her as she stared him down. "Get her."Two men took a step forward. Joanna had to work fast. "I have no intention of running, so you can stay right where you are."The men stopped and looked at Ewan, uncertain. Ewan sized Joanna up and nodded for the men to step back. "You have courage, lass. I'll give you that.""And you have a code of honor, do you not?"Ewan glanced at his men before he met her gaze. "Aye. What of it?""I should like to challenge that honor."Ewan threw his head back and laughed. "You?""Yes, me." Joanna had not been raised to be a cowering fool, no matter how much she quaked with fear on the inside."So what's it to be?" Ewan said with a sa
Brock smiled as he felt Joanna fall asleep in his embrace. He moved her only once to fix his trousers and her dress before he pulled her back into the cradle of his arms. He had bruised ribs and an aching jaw, but it all had been worth it. His English lass had saved him, and while he did not like to think that he had been unable to protect her, he was glad he had married a woman with a warrior's heart. He would never forget the sight of Ewan Campbell on the ground, clutching his bollocks.My sweet Joanna, you are indeed sent from the heavens.He held her tightly until the coach stopped at the castle entrance. He carried her out, whispering thanks to the driver before he took the coach and horses around to the stables. Brock carried his sleeping wife inside. Duncan held the door for them, and the lad's eyebrows rose as he saw Joanna's torn skirts and Brock's bruised face, but he didn't ask any questions."Get some rest, Duncan. We will see you in the morning.""Aye, my lord." The yo
The moment Joanna realized Brock would not be able to get out, she screamed his name. Duncan found her trying to claw her way back up the stone walls. The heat of the blaze was fierce, and the castle seemed to swell with the heat beneath her hands, but it didn't stop her. Her husband was going to die if she couldn't find a way to save him."My lady! Be careful!" Duncan shouted. Pieces of wood and stone fell from the battlements, landing with heavy thuds on the grass around her."Duncan! Thank God! Brock is trapped up there. We must find a way to save him!""How? We canna get back inside." Duncan stared up at the cloud of smoke billowing out from the window above them, his face ashen. Joanna watched the flames lick along the stones in terror. She'd never thought stones could burn, but the amount of timber inside the castle was feeding the fire.If only they hadn't run out of rope. If only he'd been able to get out the window and jump. But it was too high. If only A sudden burst of i
Two months later"They're here!" Brock bellowed from upstairs.The castle rebuilding was almost finished. It was no longer a crumbling ruin, even the way it had been before the fire. His tenants had worked hard, and Joanna had hired many more local men to help. The promise of decent wages along with noon and evening meals had drawn men from miles.Now the castle was a source of pride, not something which drowned him in guilt and shame. Each night he and Joanna had stayed up late in the new library, which was quickly filling with books, reading to each other, sharing food and smiles before they retired to histheir bedchamber to make love.Joanna rushed downstairs, wearing a dark-blue gown accented with a tartan sash bearing his family's pattern of red and green. "They're here already?" She had taken to wearing his family's colors whenever she had the chance. He smiled as she flew into his arms. He caught her, and she kissed him hard, laughing as he swung her around."I admit, seein
BOOK TEN: The Earl of KentLondon, December 1816Fifteen-year-old Ella Humphrey was caught in a dream as she leaned over the wooden banister overlooking the entryway to her home. Two young men had come in through the door, shaking snow off their Hessian boots and removing their hats as they talked jovially. One was her older brother Graham, and the otherthe other was a man she'd never seen before. Tall, dark haired, with a deep rich laugh that sent butterflies fluttering inside her stomach."It's rather tragic, don't you think?"Ella jolted and turned to find her mother, Violet, the Dowager Countess of Lonsdale, behind her. She looked sad as she too looked down at the pair of young men."What's tragic?" asked Ella."Graham's friend, Lord Kent. His parents both died of typhus a month ago I heard, while visiting relatives in Scotland. He's only twenty-three, far too young to be an orphan." Violet stroked Ella's blonde hair as Ella gazed down at the handsome man in the entrance hall
London, December 1821Phillip had always had the devil's own luck, but not tonight. At the moment, he sat at a green baize tabletop playing faro and losing badly.Faro was a game partly of skill and partly of chance, and tonight both were failing him. His opponent, a dark-haired man who'd introduced himself as Daniel Sheffield, was racking up debts against him with an ease that worried Phillip."Another hand?" Sheffield challenged. "One good hand would set me right."Phillip jerked slightly as Graham gripped his arm in warning, but he took no heed."Another," Phillip said. He watched the dealer lay out thirteen cards and placed his bet as to which card the dealer would turn up next. Sheffield doubled Phillip's bet, and Graham stiffened beside him.Phillip tried to keep calm, but the fact was his debts were too high to turn back. But if he won this hand, everything would be fine.Sheffield's lips twitched a moment before the dealer turned the card over. Phillip's stomach dropped.