Scotsman of My Dreams

by Karen Ranney

  She laughed and he felt his heart expand. Who knew that Minerva had such an infectious laugh? She sounded like a young girl only days away from childhood, carefree and delighted.

  He turned and lifted his left arm. Suddenly, the sounds of violins flooded the garden.

  “Have you hired an entire orchestra?”

  “Only a quartet. Come and dance with me, Minerva.” He held out his arms. “My dearest Minerva, my wife, the most astounding woman in the world, will you dance with me?”

  “Here, Dalton?”

  “Here,” he said, “in our own private garden.”

  She walked into his arms and allowed him to lead her into a waltz. A little more decorous, probably, than one performed on a ballroom floor. Down the paths and around the garden they whirled and laughed. If some of the servants watched through the windows, they hadn’t minded.

  Now his wife had another surprise for him and he couldn’t imagine what it might be.

  As they entered the town house, he waved to the Covington sisters, no doubt peering from one of the windows. The three of them had been guests at their wedding and they’d entertained the women at dinner twice in the last few months. He would always be grateful to them for saving Minerva the night she was kidnapped.

  Lewis would go to prison if convicted of Arthur’s death and most certainly for arranging Minerva’s abduction. His feelings about that were complex. He felt a measure of guilt that he hadn’t been a better influence over Lewis, and sorrow that Lewis had destroyed his life because of greed. Added to that was relief that his brother’s plans, aided by Howington, who was also incarcerated, hadn’t succeeded.

  An audit of his finances had proven what he suspected. Howington had helped himself to thousands of pounds while he was in America.

  “Now, as to my surprise,” she said, once she’d handed over her coat and bonnet to the maid.

  He did the same, thanking the young girl.

  “It’s Neville.”

  “We’ll find him,” he said, injecting more hope into the words than he felt.

  He’d already sent a sizable sum to the British Legation to finance Neville’s release from the prison camp where he was being held. The delay, he’d been told, was due to the press of war and the fact that negotiations had broken down numerous times.

  “No. You don’t understand. He’s here, Dalton,” she said.

  She put her hands on his chest, lifting her face. Why had he ever thought her plain? Even a blind man could see her beauty.

  “He’s home.”

  He stared down at her, a dozen emotions all vying to be victor in that moment. He finally settled on patience, assuming a calm he didn’t feel.

  “He’s finally home.”

  Was he supposed to sing hosannas? Evidently, if the beatific smile Minerva gave him was any judge.

  His willingness to bring Neville home was born from his love for her, not his belief in the man’s innocence.

  “Will you talk with him? Will you hear him out?”

  He’d promised her that, hadn’t he?

  Taking his hand, she led him down the hall and into the parlor.

  “I love you,” Minerva said once they’d entered the room. “But I also love my brother. So I’m going to leave the two of you alone to talk in hopes that you will remember that, both of you.”

  He stared at the door she closed.

  “Dammit, Minerva.”

  “I’ve often felt the same way,” Neville said. “She puts you on a pedestal and you can’t help but fall off it.”

  Neville was seated in one of the wing chairs in front of the fireplace.

  He turned and went to stand in front of his brother-­in-­law, staring at the man. Even with only one eye, he could see the changes the year had made in Neville.

  “You look like hell.”

  The other man shifted in his chair, and when he did, the loose fabric of his trousers pressed against his legs, revealing limbs like twigs.

  Dalton had never seen anyone as thin. His wrists stuck out of his jacket. His Adam’s apple was prominent and his face was barely more than a skull covered in skin.

  “The voice of honesty, finally,” Neville said, smiling. “You would be surprised by all the ­people who have told me how good I’m looking when I know I’m a ghost. Oh, I’m a ghost with a little meat on its bones, but some days I feel so transparent that I’m sure ­people can see through me.”

  He was surprised Neville had survived the voyage home.

  “I understand I have you to thank for rescuing me.”

  “It wasn’t me, but my cousin.”

  Neville inclined his head slightly. “My thanks to him, then.”

  “He’s a she, actually. Glynis’s first husband was with the British Legation in Washington. I knew they were trying to arrange a trade. I didn’t know they’d been successful.”

  “Just in time, I understand,” Neville said. “They’re no longer trading prisoners. So I’m doubly grateful.”

  Dalton sat on the adjoining chair, considering his words. He loved his wife. He admired her. He wanted to be around her for the rest of his days, but in this he had to obey his own counsel.

  “Why the hell did you try to kill me?”

  “Minerva said you thought that.” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

  “I saw you aiming at me.”

  “I wasn’t aiming at you, but at Harris. He’d been saying some things I thought were odd for days. I wondered what he had planned. The moment we rounded the curve on the path, I knew what it was. He had his pistol trained on you. My only choice was to shoot him.”

  “Did you?”

  Neville shook his head. “His aim was better. We thought you dead at first, you know.”

  Neville rested his head back against the chair as if the conversation tired him.

  “If you’ll remember, he was slightly ahead of us and to the left. I was riding beside you until the trail became too narrow and I moved back.”

  The shooting was a blur to him. He hadn’t been able to remember much of what happened just before he was shot and nothing afterward. The image of Neville raising his pistol was the clearest memory he’d had.

  “Why? Why was he trying to kill me?”

  “You need to talk to your brother,” Neville said.

  “Is that what he said, that Lewis had paid him?”

  Neville nodded.

  “Dying men confess all manner of sins. They wish to go to their maker with a clean conscience. At least that’s what happened in prison camp. More than once when I thought I was dying I told anyone who listened about my regrets.”

  “Your sister always believed you would come home.”

  Neville smiled, the expression more sad than amused.

  “One of my sins, Dalton. That I was never as good a brother as she was a sister.”

  He knew a great deal about regret.

  “We were damn fools, Neville. I was the biggest one of all.”

  “Minerva doesn’t think so, or she would never have married you. My sister is a damn good judge of character. At first I couldn’t see how you would suit. Then I realized the two of you are very much alike.”

  A knock on the door signaled the end of their privacy. A moment later Minerva entered, followed by Mrs. Beauchamp with a tray. From the looks of the pastries piled high, they were trying to fatten Neville up in a day.

  “Are you done?” Minerva asked after the housekeeper left the room. “Or do I have to hide all the pokers and knives?”

  He exchanged a look with Neville.

  “We’re done,” he said.

  He had made peace with his past in order to savor his future. Neville’s appearance was the last part of that past. He didn’t know if his story was the truth, but he suspected it was, especially if Lewis featured in it.
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  A strange thing about love, he thought as Minerva stretched up to kiss him. It blunted all the aggressive emotions. One couldn’t hate or distrust in the presence of love.

  In the future, if rumors were told of him and his role as the once infamous Rake of London, ­people might nod at each other and exchange stories. Hopefully, they’d say that he’d taken to being quite a good earl. They would probably talk about Minerva as well, telling tales of how she loved to dig in the soil of Scotland and wear something too much like trousers to be entirely proper.

  Those same ­people might say that two such shocking creatures deserved each other.

  Indeed, they did, and he, for one, was damn thankful.

  Author’s Notes

  John Godfrey Saxe’s poem, “The Blind Men and the Elephant,” was actually written in 1872. I’ve utilized a little literary license by allowing Minerva to quote it ten years earlier.

  I was reading about George Alfred Lawrence—­the author of Guy Livingstone, a novel published in 1857 featuring a handsome Guards officer. Mr. Lawrence decided, in December of 1862, to leave England and volunteer to serve General Lee as a staff officer. This led to my discovery that other men had also left England with the express purpose of participating in the Civil War. Ergo—­Dalton MacIain was born.

  The incident Dalton relates, with he and his men flipping a coin to decide who would go to the North and who would go to the South, was taken from recollections of Field Marshal Viscount Wolseley as related in James A. Rawley (ed.), The American Civil War: An English View (Mechanicsburg, Pa., 2002), p. xiii.—­and A World on Fire: Britain’s Crucial Role in the American Civil War, Random House Publishing Group.

  Welcome to the World of Karen Ranney.

  Turn the page to find out what other wonderful romances Karen Ranney has in store for you.

  In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams

  Seven years have passed since Glynis MacIain made the foolish mistake of declaring her love to Lennox Cameron only to have him stare at her dumbfounded. Heartbroken, she accepted the proposal of a diplomat and moved to America, where she played the role of a dutiful wife among Washington’s elite. Now a widow, Glynis is back in Scotland. Though Lennox can still unravel her with just one glance, Glynis is no longer the naive girl Lennox knew, and she vows to resist him.

  With the American Civil War raging on, shipbuilder Lennox Cameron must complete a sleek new blockade runner for the Confederate navy. He cannot afford any distractions, especially the one woman he’s always loved. Glynis’s cool demeanor tempts him to prove to her what a terrible mistake she made seven years ago.

  As the war casts its long shadow across the ocean, will a secret from Glynis’s past destroy any chance for a future between the two star-­crossed lovers?

  Return to Clan Sinclair

  A Novella

  When Ceana Sinclair Mead married the youngest son of an Irish duke, she never dreamed that seven years later her beloved Peter would die. Her three brothers-­in-­law think she should be grateful to remain a proper widow. But after three years of this, she’s ready to scream. She escapes to Scotland, only to discover she’s so much more than just the Widow Mead.

  In Scotland, Ceana crosses paths with Bruce Preston, an American tasked with a dangerous mission by her brother, Macrath. Bruce is too attractive for her peace of mind, but she still finds him fascinating. Their one night together is more wonderful than Ceana could have imagined, and she has never felt more alive.

  But when the past reaches out in the form of an old foe, Ceana’s life is in danger. Now Bruce must fight to become her savior—­and more—­if she’ll let him.

  The Virgin of Clan Sinclair

  Ellice Traylor has a secret. Beneath her innocent exterior beats an incredibly passionate and imaginative heart. She has been pouring all of her frustrated virginal fantasies into a scandalous manuscript. But when her plans for her future are about to be derailed by her mother’s matrimonial designs, she takes matters into her own hands.

  Ross Forster, the Earl of Gladsden, has spent his life creating order out of chaos. He expects discipline and calm from those around him. What he does not expect is a beautiful, thoroughly maddening stowaway in his carriage.

  But when Ross discovers Ellice’s secret book, he finds he can’t stop thinking about what other fantasies the disarming virgin can dream up. He has the chance to learn when a compromising position forces them to wed. But can the uptight Earl survive a life with his surprising new wife? And how will the hero of Ellice’s fantasies compare to the husband of her reality?

  The Witch of Clan Sinclair

  Logan Harrison is looking for a wife. As the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, he needs a conventional and diplomatic woman who will stand by his side and help further his political ambitions. He most certainly does not need Mairi Sinclair, the fiery, passionate, fiercely beautiful woman who tries to thwart him at every turn. But if she’s so wrong for him, why can’t he stop kissing her? He’s completely bewitched.

  Mairi Sinclair has never met anyone like Logan Harrison, the perfect example of everything she finds wrong with the world. He’s also incredibly handsome, immensely popular, and impossible to resist. His kisses inflame her and awaken a passion she can barely control.

  Can two ­people who are at such odds admit to a love that would bind them together for life?

  The Devil of Clan Sinclair

  To Dance with the Devil . . .

  For Virginia Traylor, Countess of Barrett, marriage was merely the vehicle to buy her father a title. Widowhood, however, brings a host of problems. For her husband deliberately spent the money intended for Virginia and her in-­laws, leaving them penniless—­unless she produces an heir. Desperate and confused, Virginia embarks on a fateful journey that brings her to the doorstep of the only man she’s ever loved . . .

  He’s known as the Devil, but Macrath Sinclair doesn’t care. He moved to a tiny Scottish village in hopes of continuing his work as an inventor and starting a family of his own. He bought the house; he chose the woman. Unfortunately, Virginia didn’t choose him. Macrath knows he should turn her away now, but she needs him, and he wants her more than ever. Macrath intends to win—­one wickedly seductive deed at a time.

  The Lass Wore Black

  Third in line for an important earldom, Mark Thorburn is expected to idly wait to take up his position. Instead, he devotes himself to medicine, a life’s work that leads him to the door of famous beauty Catriona Cameron.

  The victim of a terrible accident, Catriona has refused to admit even the most illustrious physicians to her lush Edinburgh apartments. But what if a doctor were to pose as a mere footman, pretending to serve her every need . . . would she see through such a ruse?

  Entwined in the masquerade, Mark manages to gain Catriona’s trust, only to find that somehow she has captured his heart at the same time. But when their passion becomes the target of a madman bent on revenge, Mark will have to do more than heal her body and win her love . . . he’ll have to save her life as well.

  A Scandalous Scot

  One scandal was never enough . . .

  After four long years Morgan MacCraig has finally returned to the Highlands of his birth . . . with his honor in shreds. After a scandal, all he wants now is solace—­yet peace is impossible to find with the castle’s outspoken new maid trying his patience, challenging his manhood . . . and winning his love, body and soul.

  Jean MacDonald wants to leave her past behind and start anew, but Ballindair Castle, a Scottish estate rumored to be haunted, hasn’t been the safe haven she envisioned. Ballindair’s ancestral ghosts aren’t as fascinating as Morgan, the most magnificent man she’s ever seen. Though their passion triggers a fresh scandal that could force them to wed, Jean must first share the secrets of her own past—­secrets that could force them apart, or be the beginning of a love and redemption unlike anything they’ve ever known.

 
A Scottish Love

  Shona Imrie should have agreed to Gordon MacDermond’s proposal of marriage seven years ago—­before he went off to war and returned a national hero—­but the proud Scottish lass would accept no man’s charity. The dashing soldier would never truly share her love and the passion that left her weak and breathless—­or so she believed—­so instead she gave herself to another. Now she faces disgrace, poverty, and a life spent alone for her steadfast refusal to follow her heart.

  Honored with a baronetcy for his courage under fire, Gordon has everything he could ever want—­except for the one thing he most fervently desires: the headstrong beauty he foolishly let slip through his fingers. Conquering Shona’s stubborn pride, however, will prove his most difficult battle—­though it is the one for which he is most willing to risk his life, his heart, and his soul.

  A Borrowed Scot

  Who is Montgomery Fairfax?

  Though she possesses remarkable talents and astonishing insight, Veronica MacLeod knows nothing about the man who appears from nowhere to prevent her from committing the most foolish and desperate act of her life. Recently named Lord Fairfax of Doncaster Hall, the breathtaking, secretive stranger agrees to perform the one act of kindness that can rescue the Scottish beauty from scandal and disgrace—­by taking Veronica as his bride.

  Journeying with Montgomery Fairfax to his magnificent estate in the Highlands, Veronica knows deep in her heart that this is a man she can truly love—­a noble soul, a caring and passionate lover whose touch awakens feelings she’s never before known. Yet there are ghosts in Montgomery’s shuttered past that haunt him still. Unless Veronica can somehow unlock the enigma that is her new husband, their powerful passion could be undone by the sins and sorrows of yesterday.