by Amanda Scott
“If you know who I am, then you should behave more courteously.”
Glancing at the too-interested boy, Rob said quietly, “If you would like to throw a stick for Scàthach, lad, she will be delighted to accept your friendship. She has not had much exercise yet today, so you’d be doing me a good turn, as well.”
“Aye, sure,” the lad replied, grinning. Unstringing his bow, he rested it against a tree, quickly found a suitable stick, and heaved it away from the trees.
Scàthach chased it eagerly up the slope, tossed it high and caught it, then turned back. When the boy dashed off to meet her and throw the stick again, Rob said to her ladyship, “You do know that you were in danger up there, do you not?”
“If you know who I am, why do you not address me properly?”
“Because you are not behaving much like a lady just now,” he said.
Flushing scarlet, she gave him a look he was sure she thought ought to wither him where he stood. Her expressive sky-blue eyes flashed sparks, and her kissable pink mouth opened as if she meant to give him a piece of her mind. But she shut it again without saying a word.
Then, when he remained silent, having no reason to say more than he had, she drew a deep breath and said, “You have not changed a whit since last year.”
“So you do remember me.”
“Aye, sure, I do. You are Master Robert MacAulay of Ardincaple. You came here last year with Ian. I did not think then that you were rude, just a bit tiresome.”
“And now you think I am rude. Why?”
She rolled her eyes as if his rudeness ought to be self-evident.
He glanced toward the boy, saw that his attention was wholly on the dog, and returned his own to the undeniably tempting but perilously naïve Lady Muriella. “Are you going to answer my question, lass? If you expect me to read your mind when you roll your eyes like that, you will soon learn that I dislike guessing games. If you want me to know what you think, you must tell me.”
“I think that I do not want to talk to you anymore. In troth, since no one invited you here, I think you should go home.”
“What makes you think no one invited me?”
Try though she did, Muriella could get no more than that out of the man. When she asked him if her father had invited him or even knew that he was on Tùr Meiloach land, Robert MacAulay said only, “You will have to ask Andrew Dubh.”
Irritated, and with curiosity aflame, she said, “If you will not talk to me, I see no reason to talk to you. You may therefore go where you will, but you should know that I mean to tell my father that you are roaming about on our land.”
“You may certainly tell him that,” MacAulay said. “Be sure that you also tell him where you were and that Dougal MacPharlain was on his land, too.”
Tossing her head a little, she said, “I have no reason to say that Dougal was there. I did not see him.”
“The boy did, though, and so did I,” MacAulay said. “You would be wiser, I think, to tell your father about Dougal before one of us does. For now, I will see you safely back to Tùr Meiloach, since you won’t promise to return on your own.”
“Would you believe me if I did promise?” she asked.
“Should I?”
Muriella hesitated. Something about Master Robert MacAulay suggested that lying to him might be a mistake.
Meeting his gaze, she saw to her consternation that a knowing twinkle lurked in the green depths of his eyes.
Her temper bristled. “I expect that even if I did promise, you would follow me to be sure I went home.”
“I expect I would, at that,” he admitted. “I do not know you well enough yet to know whether you keep your promises.” With that, he gave a low whistle, and Scàthach dropped the stick she was carrying and loped to his side.
Pluff followed more slowly. “Be we a-going back then?” he asked.
“We are,” MacAulay said. He waited only until Pluff had collected his bow and quiver, before gesturing for Muriella to lead the way.
Tempted though she was to press him for more information, she had seen enough of him to suspect that such pressure would be useless, so she strode on ahead of them. When they reached the tower gate, a guard opened it at once, but MacAulay showed no inclination to enter. He merely nodded for Muriella to do so.
“Will you not come inside with us then?”
“I have no reason now to seek out Andrew Dubh. But do not disappoint me, lass. Tell him that Dougal was on his land.”
Giving him a slight smile in response, and relieved that he had not reminded her to tell her father where she had been, Muriella passed through the gateway with dignity. When Pluff followed her, however, she said firmly, “You go and ask MacNur if he has tasks for you. I will talk with my lord father alone.”
“Aye, sure,” Pluff said, turning back to wave at MacAulay and Scàthach.
Deciding that since Robert MacAulay had left her little choice, she would see her father at once, Muriella went in search of him and found him at the high table in the great hall, talking with his steward, Malcolm Wylie.
In his fiftieth year, Andrew Dubh MacFarlan was still a fit warrior with only specks of gray in his dark hair. More gray showed in his bushy eyebrows, but the dark blue eyes beneath them shifted alertly at his youngest daughter’s approach.
“May I have a word with you, sir?” she asked, making her curtsy.
Andrew smiled then and said, “Aye, sure, lassie, whenever ye like.”
Muriella glanced at Malcolm, who said, “I must speak wi’ that young gillie, m’lord, but I’ll be within hail.”
Nodding, Andrew gestured to the stool beside him. “What is it, lass?”
Sitting on the stool, she said, “I met Master Robert MacAulay on the northeast slope, sir. Did you know that he has been wandering about on our land?”
“D’ye think I dinna ken who’s here at Tùr Meiloach, Murie-lass?”
“Usually you do,” she said, nodding. “But I should tell you that Master Robert and our Pluff both said they had seen Dougal MacPharlain near the northeast pass, on our side of it.” Pleased with the way she had phrased that information, she was nonetheless relieved when Andrew simply nodded in response.
“One o’ the lads said he’d seen Dougal there,” he said. “Doubtless he seeks to know if we’re awake or asleep. But Rob will likely tell me more of him anon.”
“Why is he here?”
“For reasons of his own,” Andrew said. “Mag said that Rob had been seeking solitude, so Mag suggested that, whilst he and Andrena are away to Ayrshire, Rob might look after the wee cottage they’ve built for themselves.”
Muriella knew that the cottage was empty, since Andrena and Mag had gone to Dumbarton to show off their new wee bairn to her sister Lina and Sir Ian. They would then visit Mag’s two older sisters and their husbands in Ayreshire.
Thinking of her two sisters and their husbands stirred a new thought in her agile mind. “You are not thinking of arranging a marriage between me and Master Robert MacAulay such as the ones you arranged for Dree and Lina, are you, sir?”
“Ye needna fret, lassie, for I did offer just such a union to the man last year when he was here with Ian,” Andrew replied. “He turned me down flat.”
Stupefied, Muriella exclaimed, “But why? What’s wrong with me?”
THE DISH
Where Authors Give You the Inside Scoop
From the desk of Anna Campbell
Dear Reader,
When I first came up with the idea for the Sons of Sin series, which began last year with Seven Nights in a Rogue’s Bed, I wanted to explore the effects of family scandal on my heroes and the women they fall in love with.
My first hero, Jonas Merrick, was all injury, anger, and passion. For my second hero, I wanted less of the wounded lion and more of the man who hides deep emotional wounds beneath a careless smile and a quick witticism. Someone a little closer to the Scarlet Pimpernel than Heathcliff! I also wanted to write about someone who becomes a
hero in spite of himself, once he realizes that he alone can protect the woman he loves from men with much darker motives than his own rather murky purposes.
So Sir Richard Harmsworth, the dashing rake at the center of A RAKE’S MIDNIGHT KISS, was born.
All Richard’s life, he’s maintained an appearance of cool elegance. He’s learned through bitter experience that emotional involvement only leads to disaster. When he sets out to retrieve the Harmsworth Jewel, the priceless artifact that proves his right to the baronetcy, he has no idea that he’s embarking on an adventure that will change him forever.
Richard fights tooth and nail against falling in love with scholarly vicar’s daughter, Genevieve Barrett, the jewel’s current custodian. Even worse, innocent Genevieve is the one woman in the world who seems immune to his famous charm. To win her, he’ll need to dig deep beneath his spectacular façade and unearth all those heroic qualities that he’s convinced he doesn’t possess. Qualities like courage and honor, steadfastness and self-sacrifice.
These two characters were such fun to write. I’ve always been a fan of the fast-talking romantic comedies of the 1930s and 1940s where the heroine was at least as smart as the hero and didn’t give him an inch unless he worked himself into a lather to take it. I created Richard and Genevieve in that mold—I wanted passionate battles and battling passions! I hope you enjoy their bumpy path to true love and a happy ending.
If you’d like to know more about A RAKE’S MIDNIGHT KISS, please check out my website www.annacampbell.info. And in the meantime, happy reading!
Best wishes,
From the desk of Debra Webb
Dear Reader,
Fall is around the corner and I’m already plotting how to decorate for Halloween and then Christmas. Yes, I said Christmas! Time really has flown this year. Here we are in case six of the Faces of Evil—RUTHLESS.
I’m certain you were a little stunned at the end! What in the world is Jess going to do? It’s time for her to get her act together and face the reality of her situation—Spears isn’t going to stop until he has her. There is so much more for her to consider now. And Dan, oh my goodness, is he in for a surprise! Jess will need Dan more than ever now.
Vicious is next, so brace yourself! Things just get more chilling from here. The pressure is on to stop Spears and no one is safe. As the next six cases play out, look for exploding tension, life-and-death situations, and even more heinous killers. That’s the thing about the Faces of Evil: Each one is more evil than the last. So don’t miss a single installment!
I hope you’ll stop by www.thefacesofevil.com and visit! There’s a weekly briefing each Friday where I talk about what’s going on in my world and with the characters as I write the next story. You can sign up as a person of interest and you might just end up a suspect! We love giving away prizes too so do stop by.
Enjoy the story and be sure to look for Vicious next spring! Between now and then, I’ll be sending you on a journey into Jess and Dan’s past with a very special Christmas story. Watch for Silence coming soon!
Cheers!
From the desk of Kristen Ashley
Dear Reader,
I have an obsession with names, which shouldn’t surprise readers as the names I give my characters run the gamut and are often out there.
In my Dream Man series, I introduced readers to Cabe “Hawk” Delgado, Brock “Slim” Lucas, Mitch Lawson, and Kane “Tack” Allen. My Chaos series gives us Shy, Hop, Joker, and Rush, among the other members of the Club.
I’ve had quite a few folks express curiosity about where I come up with all these names, and I wish I could say I knew a load of good-looking men who had awesome and unusual names and I stole them but, alas, that isn’t true.
In most cases, characters, especially heroes and heroines, come to me named. They just pop right into my head, much like Tatum “Tate” Jackson of Sweet Dreams. He just walked right in there, all the gloriousness of Tate, and introduced himself to me. And luckily, he had an amazing, strong, masculine, kick-ass name.
In other instances, who they are defines their name. I understood Hawk’s tragic back story from MYSTERY MAN first. I also understood that the man he was melted away; he became another man with a new name so what he called himself evolved from what he did in the military. His given name, of course, evolved from his multiethnic background.
The same with Mitch, the hero from Law Man. The minute he walked into Gwen’s kitchen, his last name hit me like a shot. What else could a straight-arrow cop be called but Lawson?
Other names are a mystery to me. Kane “Tack” Allen came to me named but I had no clue why his Club name was Tack. Truthfully, I also found it a bit annoying seeing as how the name Kane is such a cool name, and I didn’t want to waste it on a character who wouldn’t use it. But Tack was Kane Allen and there was no prying that name away from him.
Why he was called Tack, though, was a mystery to me, but I swear, it must have always been in the recesses of my mind because his nickname is perfect for him. Therefore, as I was following his journey with Tyra and the mystery of Tack was revealed, I burst out laughing. I loved it. It was so perfect for him.
One of the many, many reasons I’m enjoying the Chaos series is that I get to be very creative with names. I mean, Shy, Hop, Rush, Bat, Speck, and Snapper? I love it. Anything goes with those boys and I have lists of names scrawled everywhere in my magic notebook where I jot ideas. Some of them are crazy and I hope to get to use them, like Moose. Some of them are crazy cool and I hope I get to use them, like Preacher. Some of them are just crazy and I’ll probably never use them, like Destroyer. But all of them are fun.
All my characters’ names, nicknames, and the endearments they use with each other, friends, and family mean a great deal to me. Mostly because all of them and everything they do exists in a perfectly real unreality in my head. They’re with me all the time. They’re mine. I created them. And just like a parent naming a child, these perfectly real unreal beings are precious to me as are the names they chose for themselves.
I just hope they keep it exciting.
From the desk of Amanda Scott
Dear Reader,
The setting for a story is as important as any other plot element, sometimes more so. Therefore, when I decided to pattern the heroines of my Lairds of the Loch trilogy after the Greek Fates Atropos, Lachesis, and Clotho (who became the ladies Andrena, Lachina, and Muriella MacFarlan), I realized that they’d need a setting equal to their creative “heritage.”
I wanted the three to have gifts based on instincts that we all still share to some degree, but exaggerated, because in those days such instincts must have been stronger for survival. Shortly after that I began wondering if the story’s setting might play a more active role of its own. You see, it had to be a defensible place. Their father, Andrew, the true chief of Clan Farlan, had managed to defend it for nearly twenty years against the treacherous cousin who usurped the rest of his vast estates and murdered his three sons.
The result is Tùr Meiloach (pronounced Toor MIL-ock), meaning “a small tower guarded by giants,” but also referring to the estate’s reputation as a sanctuary for “true” MacFarlans. Over time, the rugged land where the tower sits has acquired an eerie reputation that daunts most would-be visitors. Birds and beasts of the forest are said to be wilder and more vicious there than elsewhere, and men swear that bogs reach out to drown unwary trespassers. The mountainous terrain is replete with rivers too wild to ford; high, spiny ridges; and deep chasms with walls likely to crumble at a man’s touch and bury him.
Legends abound of men, even whole armies, vanishing there.
Through various strategies, Andrew has succeeded in keeping Tùr Meiloach safe from invasion, but his primary goal is to marry his daughters to well-connected warriors who can help him win back his entire chiefdom.
Lady Lachina “Lina” MacFarlan, the heroine of THE KNIGHT’S TEMPTRESS, has the gift of foresight but doesn’t know it and doesn’t trust the odd sense sh
e has that something bad is about to happen (such as being captured by rebels who have seized Dumbarton Castle). Nor does she recognize Sir Ian Colquhoun as her hero.
She agrees that he is a handsome knight of great renown but thinks he is too reckless, too impulsive, and never thinks things through.
Sir Ian can’t resist a challenge and has thought since Lina was eight years old that she is too calmly dignified, so her serenity always stirs him to unsettle it. He is not interested in marriage. Besides, he is wary of her wily father and his strange estate, but the lass is dangerously attractive.
Find out what happens when Sir Ian decides to rescue Lina and her friend Lizzie Galbraith from the “impregnable” royal stronghold of Dumbarton, and the King of Scots commands him to recapture it. Sir Ian’s answer became the Colquhouns’ clan motto, “Si je puis,” or “If I can.”
I hope you enjoy reading THE KNIGHT’S TEMPTRESS.
Meantime, Suas Alba!
Sincerely,
www.amandascottauthor.com
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Map
Author’s Note
