by Amanda Scott
“Whoever you decide to be, my lady, I have been fain to meet you,” Jamie said. “Sir Magnus tells me that you are also his lady wife, Andrena’s, sister.”
“I am, aye, your grace.”
“Splendid,” Jamie said. Turning to Ian, he added, “This marriage of yours pleases me, sir. Sithee, it also aids the plan I have for you.” Turning his head slightly, he said, “Will, you may bring those documents to the table now.”
Lina, feeling pleasantly relieved by the King’s friendliness, saw a slender man a bit taller than his grace emerge from shadows at the far end of the chamber and move lithely toward them. She had not known anyone else was in the room.
The man picked up two rolled documents from a table and carried them to a larger table near the King. Laying one roll down as it was, he spread the other open for his grace, who reached for a quill and dipped it in a nearby inkpot.
Handing the quill to Ian, he said, “If you will sign here, Sir Ian…”
Looking stunned, Ian said, “May I know what I am signing, your grace?”
“Aye, sure. I’m naming you Governor of Dumbarton,” Jamie said, grinning.
“Governor!”
“I told you I’d have land for you after I retrieved some of the properties my uncle gave away as enticements to certain nobles. You retrieved the royal property that I consider most important, so I mean to put you in charge here. You will have more land of your own in time, too. But be aware that you will hold the position here that my uncle Burleigh held when those villains murdered him. So you must look after yourself, sir, especially since James Mòr remains at large.”
Ian grimaced. “Sakes, sir, he is likely out of the country by now. And, in troth, I did little to stop him. You may want to think again about this document.”
“You did what I asked of you, even though I fully believed that I had asked too much. Come to that, I had my chance to kill James Mòr when he attacked me in the midst of the rebels’ failed coup. Before you sign that, though, I should explain to your lady wife that you will live here. I hope you will not object to that, my lady.”
“Not unless you expect him to live here alone, your grace,” Lina said with a smile, realizing that her erstwhile image of living at Craggan while Ian carried out duties elsewhere had long since died an unmourned death. “I would object to that.”
“Since I suspect that he would not like that either, I should have made myself plain,” the King said. Indicating the man who had brought the documents to him, he added, “This is my steward, Sir William Fletcher. I want you and Sir Ian to take up residence as soon as you can, madam. So, if there is aught that Will can do to make things easier for you, you have only to make your needs known to him.”
Laughing, she said, “Since nearly all of my belongings except for the cloak I left here are still at Tùr Meiloach, Sir William must needs be a magician, I think.”
Chuckling in response, the King said, “I did not mean for you to think you should plant yourself here today. You may have a day or two at Dunglass to collect yourselves whilst I remain here. Doubtless, Sir Magnus and the others will aid me.”
Lina gasped. “But how long will that take? Forgive me, your grace, but if I am to do my part here, I will need—”
“Nay, lass,” Ian interjected, diverting her attention to him. “That can wait.”
She gaped, realizing that, in her shock, she had been arguing with the King. Glancing at him, she saw that his eyes were twinkling and relaxed.
Amused to see Lina’s consternation and grateful that Jamie had a strong sense of humor, Ian said, “We will see to all that later, lass. If his grace can spare Mag for a few days, I will send him and a galley to collect whatever you will need immediately from Tùr Meiloach. Although,” he added, looking at Jamie, “I did promise her father that we would visit him as soon as we could.”
“Then, after all is in order here and we have our own people in place throughout Dumbarton, you may take a fortnight for yourselves,” Jamie said. Meantime, we can trust Sir Alex and Rob MacAulay to aid us here.”
Dismissed soon thereafter, the Colquhoun party headed for Dunglass. Although Ian was weary, he felt a surge of new energy when he realized that at last he would enjoy his bride in his own chamber and his own bed.
Epilogue
Tùr Meiloach, two months later
The hushed audience listened, transfixed, as the tale neared its conclusion:
“Wicked Donal fought the peat man in a gey fierce fight.
But the Fates had turned our peat man into a noble knight.
So the virtuous ladies are safe and Wicked Donal is defeated,
He will never win, nor his dastardly deeds e’er be repeated.
Wicked Blackheart can no longer on Lomondside abide,
For the brave Sir Goodheart would fain hang him high.
Sithee, Wicked Donal Blackheart betrayed his rightful chief,
So when he ends in Hades; may he linger there in grief!”
Muriella barely finished reciting the last few words before her listeners in the lower hall burst into tumultuous cheers, applause, and foot-stomping.
Those at the high table applauded more politely. But Lina had to choke back gurgles of laughter and dared not look at Ian, knowing what he must think of himself as Sir Goodheart.
Fortunately, he sat at her father’s right with Mag between them.
Andrena, sitting at Lina’s right, on that first night of Ian’s long-promised visit to Tùr Meiloach, said faintly, “Do you suppose Murie knows how well she captured Dougal’s nature in that silly tale? She described him as if she had known him long and well. Yet I’m nearly certain that she has yet to clap eyes on the man.”
“I am certain she has not,” Lina said. “She questioned you thoroughly after you met him, though, and she said that Lizzie had told her everything about our capture and captivity. You know how Murie stores up such details.”
Lady Aubrey, sitting at Andrena’s other side, said, “We should adjourn to the solar now. In troth, Lina,” she added, “I do not want to share you with everyone else in the hall on your first night here.”
Someone had begun to play a lute and sing, and others were singing along.
When Lady Aubrey spoke to Andrew, he nodded, rose, and said something to the other men at the high table. The result was that everyone there followed her upstairs.
Lina waited for Murie, who hurried up to her, grinning. “What did you think? Did I get all of the details right? Why is everyone leaving?”
“Because Mam wants us to be together as a family tonight,” Lina said. “And I would liefer talk to you and the family than listen to the singing here.”
“Well, I am not so sure that I want to go up there with everyone,” Muriella said. “Mag did not seem to like my tale, nor did Master Robert MacAulay. I do not know why Ian brought him along. He is not at all amusing, Lina.”
“Well, Sir Alex is here, too. You like him, do you not?”
“Aye, sure. He is much merrier than Master Robert. But I am glad that I do not mean ever to marry. I doubt a man exists that I could love longer than a day.”
Amused, Lina said, “Never?”
Murie grinned. “Never. Sithee, I want to learn all I can, and when I say that to Mag or to Master Rob, they just shake their heads at me.”
Trying to think how to put her thoughts tactfully, Lina said, “I think you might have to add Ian to the head-shakers after tonight, Murie. He will not properly appreciate your description of him and what he did.”
“What man does not want to be a hero? Ian has not complained before.”
Since she was not sure that Ian had ever heard any tales about himself, Lina said, “I noticed that you said naught about Mam’s part in any of this.”
“I knew she would not like it,” Murie said. “Forbye, she would not tell me anything about what happened to her. But I can add that after you tell me about it.”
“I’m afraid I won’t do that,” Lina said gently. “No
r do I think you would be wise to ask Ian. He is more likely to take you to task for having said as much about Dougal as you did. You must ken fine that Dougal will not like that, either, Murie.”
“Dougal is not here,” Murie pointed out. But she cast a glance up the stairway, where the door to the solar had come into view.
Ian stood there, frowning. He smiled when Lina caught his eye. But when they reached him, he said, “I wish you had let me hear your tale before you recited it to everyone, Muriella, especially as so much of it was about me.”
“I told them naught but what happened,” she said defensively.
“We’ll talk more about that anon,” he said. “Right now, I want you to go on into the solar and sit near your mam, because I mean to sit with my lady wife. We have both been gey busy these past weeks, and I have seen too little of her.”
Without argument, Muriella went into the solar. When Lina moved to follow her, Ian put a hand on her arm. “Must we stay?” he asked her.
“For a time at least,” she said, smiling at him again. “You were gey tactful, sir. I warrant you’d much rather have—”
“You don’t know what I’d like to do to her,” he said. “But right now that doesn’t concern me much, either.”
He had wanted to throttle Muriella each time she had mentioned blasted Sir Goodheart. But his sole concern now was to get his lady wife all to himself, preferably in their bed. “Art sure we must go in?” he asked her again.
“I am,” she said firmly. “And tonight, sir, you will do as I say.”
“Will I, your ladyship? Will I, indeed?”
“You will if you know what is good for you.”
He kissed her thoroughly then and without sparing a thought for the others. “I do know what’s good for me, my beautiful love. You are.”
“I’ve just recalled that there be summat ye dinna ken yet,” Andrew said, rather suddenly and most irritatingly filling the doorway beside Ian.
“What is that, sir?” Ian asked, striving for patience.
“Me charters have gone missing. I thought me lady might have taken them when she left here with Margaret for Bannachra. Sithee, earlier Aubrey had feared I might want to have a look at them to be sure they were safe. She was right, too, because I did that verra thing after she left. But she vows she never touched them, and I’m bound to say that I dinna ken how she could, for I never told her where I put them.”
Ian drew a breath before he said, “What would you have me do, sir?”
“Nowt that anyone can do,” Andrew said. “We’ll just have to think how to oust Pharlain from Arrochar and take it back ourselves, I expect.”
“Then, perhaps, we might talk more about that later, sir. At present…”
When he paused, Andrew looked from one to the other of them before he said, “Och, aye, I’ll leave ye be tonight then.”
“Thank you, sir. Now,” Ian added, taking her in his arms, “where were we?”
“We were about to go in there with the others,” she said. “Did you really just call me your beautiful love?”
“I did, and we were not just about to go in with the others.”
“But we were,” she said, meeting his gaze mischievously. “I thought you had learned to be tactful. But it would be most untactful simply to walk awa—”
Her words ended in a muffled shriek when he put a hand over her mouth.
“Tact is overvalued,” he said. “Now, come to bed.”
Laughing, she allowed him to urge her up the stairs. He was grinning, too.
Inside the chamber that Lady Margaret had occupied before, where earlier they had found, to Ian’s relief, a new and longer bed, they hastily disrobed and fell onto that bed together. There, they playfully teased each other to heights that he realized they had scarcely begun to explore.
He brought her nearly to her peak and then possessed her, so that they rose again together. Their culmination revealed that, just as her serenity could calm him and her anger could ignite his, her passion for him enflamed his desire for her.
“We will be happy much more often than we’ll fratch,” he murmured.
“Is that a command, my love?”
“Aye, sure,” Ian said drowsily.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed The Knight’s Temptress. With editors and readers often singing praises of, or bemoaning, “cliff-hanger” endings that keep them awake all night by not letting them put a book down, I couldn’t resist the temptation to present my hero with a real cliffhanger at the end of Chapter 2 in this book.
Many details about Clan MacFarlan(e) and its history come from the History of Clan MacFarlane by James MacFarlane (Glasgow, 1922). Until the nineteenth century, Clan MacFarlan(e) was called Clan Farlan.
More MacFarlane history and details about Clan Colquhoun come from http://www.electricscotland.com/webclans/atoc/colquho2.html, to wit:
“Sir Humphry [sic], sixth of Colquhoun, and eighth of Luss, is a witness in three charters by Duncan, Earl of Lennox.… [His] second son… Sir John [Ian] Colquhoun, was appointed governor of the castle of Dumbarton, by King James I, for his fidelity to that king during his imprisonment in England” (and afterward).
For those interested in knowing what became of Sir Ian Colquhoun, the account adds: “From his activity in punishing the depredations of the Highlanders, who often committed great outrages in the low country of Dumbartonshire, he [Sir John/Ian] rendered himself obnoxious to them, and a plot was formed for his destruction. He received a civil message from some of their chiefs, desiring a friendly conference, in order to accommodate all their differences. Suspecting no treachery, he went out to meet them but slightly attended, and was immediately attacked by a numerous body of Islanders, under two noted robber-chiefs, Lachlan Maclean and Murdoch Gibson, and slain in Inchmurren [sic], on Loch Lommond [sic], in 1439.”
Tales of how the Clan Colquhoun motto came to be “Si je puis,” or “If I can,” formed the basis for Sir Ian’s mission in The Knight’s Temptress. The only details of that tale that I’ve found and used were the deer hunt, Colquhoun’s greyhounds, and the fact that he led the hunters (and dogs) directly beneath the castle rock on their way into the woods north of it. The rest sprang from the author’s imagination.
The real Sir Alexander de Buchanan died a hero in France, in 1424.
Rob MacAulay is a fictional son of Lord MacAulay, whose control of the mouth of Gare Loch and the Loch of the Long Boats is accurate.
The spelling of Ardincaple is the one used until the twentieth century.
Regarding Dumbarton Castle, until the late Victorian period, the entrance was on the north side, as described. The “new” entrance, on the south side, is “of recent date,” according to the 1892 Gazetteer of Scotland. Sometime before then, one passed through a series of iron gates that the Victorians sold for “old iron.”
I would again like to extend special thanks to Matthew Miller, California Commissioner for The International Clan MacFarlane Society, Ltd; Michael Macfarlane of Celtic Jackalope, and everyone else who contributed to the website www.clanmacfarlane.org for their helpful commentary and excellent resources.
A special thanks, as always, to the extraordinary Donald R. MacRae for tossing ideas back and forth with me, and for the wee tower guarded by giants. And one more to expert weaver Jackie Wollenberg for answering the author’s questions about looms and weaving.
Also, as always, I thank my wonderful agents, Lucy Childs and Aaron Priest, Senior Editor Selina McLemore, Senior Managing Editor Bob Castillo, master copyeditor Sean Devlin, my publicist Jessica Bromberg, Art Director Diane Luger, Cover Artist Larry Rostant, Editorial Director Amy Pierpont, Vice President and Editor in Chief Beth de Guzman, and everyone else at Hachette Book Group’s Grand Central Publishing/Forever who contributed to this book.
If you enjoyed The Knight’s Temptress, please look for Book 3 of Lairds of the Loch, The Warrior’s Bride, in February 2014. Meantime, Suas Alba!
www.amandascottauthor.
com
OTHER BOOKS BY AMANDA SCOTT
LAIRDS OF THE LOCH: THE LAIRD’S CHOICE
SCOTTISH KNIGHTS: HIGHLAND LOVER
SCOTTISH KNIGHTS: HIGHLAND HERO
SCOTTISH KNIGHTS: HIGHLAND MASTER
TEMPTED BY A WARRIOR
SEDUCED BY A ROGUE
TAMED BY A LAIRD
BORDER MOONLIGHT
BORDER LASS
BORDER WEDDING
KING OF STORMS
KNIGHT’S TREASURE
LADY’S CHOICE
PRINCE OF DANGER
LORD OF THE ISLES
HIGHLAND PRINCESS
THE SECRET CLAN: REIVER’S BRIDE
THE SECRET CLAN: HIGHLAND BRIDE
THE SECRET CLAN: HIDDEN HEIRESS
THE SECRET CLAN: ABDUCTED HEIRESS
BORDER FIRE
BORDER STORM
BORDER BRIDE
HIGHLAND FLING
HIGHLAND SECRETS
HIGHLAND TREASURE
HIGHLAND SPIRITS
THE BAWDY BRIDE
DANGEROUS ILLUSIONS
DANGEROUS ANGELS
DANGEROUS GAMES
DANGEROUS LADY
THE ROSE AT TWILIGHT
RAVES FOR THE NOVELS OF AMANDA SCOTT
THE LAIRD’S CHOICE
“Wonderfully romantic… [a] richly detailed Scottish historical from the author frequently credited with creating the subgenre.”
—Library Journal
“Splendid scenery… Atmosphere abounds in this colorful romance.”
—HistoricalNovelSociety.org
“A fine piece of historical romance fiction.”
—TheBookBinge.com
“A great start to a trilogy that brings historical Scotland to life.”
—NikkiBrandyBerry.wordpress.com
“Written with great details… The end was wonderful.”
—MyBookAddictionReviews.com
HIGHLAND LOVER
