Grand Central Publishing
Featuring: Sir Richard Seyton; Lady Fiona Jardine
384 pages ISBN: 0446561320 EAN: 9780446561327 Mass Market Paperback Add to Wish List
Lady Fiona Jardine married in haste. Her husband, Will, abducted her in hopes of getting a large dowry. When Fiona is cut off by her father, Will takes all his frustrations out on her. Though she is heavy with child, Will strikes her. The next thing Fiona remembers is waking up in her bed and discovering her husband is gone.
Will has been missing for months and rumors are rampant about his disappearance. Sir Richard Seyton, the Laird of Kirkhill, is sent to discover who killed Will by Old Jardine, Will's father. Sir Richard must tread carefully as Old Jardine has been in collusion with the English before and there are concerns of war.
With Old Jardine confined to his bed, Richard finds himself spending much more time than he would like at Spedlin Towers. Sir Richard doesn't want the responsibility of another ward but his sense of responsibility towards his cousin's wife and child is too strong. Though he is strongly attracted to Fiona, her condition and his common sense tell him that it would be folly to get involved.
Sir Richard is called away when Archie "the Grim" Douglas calls for him to lead his troops into battle against the English. As he leaves the hall, his sister and Fiona are kidnapped by the English and Richard must rescue his love, and aid in the defeat of the English.
Ms. Scott has written a great ending to her latest trilogy. The author does a lot of research on Scottish history and translates that history into well written books. Her books inspired some of the places I visited in Scotland. Her descriptions of places and events are engrossing and inspiring.
We see the growth of Fiona from the first book to the third book in which she is a strong woman who will defend herself and her family. Sir Richard is a fitting hero for Fiona. He will allow her some leeway but has the strength of character needed to rein her in, if required. The revelation of the identity of Will's killer is almost anticlimactic due to the excitement of the battle that preceded it.
I've been reading Amanda Scott's books since she wrote regencies. Her exceptional work keeps drawing me back to her stories. If you like Scottish romance, don't miss this one.
Lady Fiona, wed in haste, has never known marital peace.
When last she'd seen her cruel husband Will, he'd struck
her - and she has no memory of what she did next - only
that she woke later alone in her bedchamber. Will has gone
missing, and Fiona fears that in her rage and terror she
might somehow have killed him.
When her husband's cousin
Sir Richard comes to search for Will, Fiona is touched by
his warm nature. A knight and warrior, Richard is drawn to
Fiona's brave manner, quickly seeing in her an equal
measure of inner courage. Confessing that she fears having
killed Will, Fiona accepts Richard's offer to help her.
Pursuing together the mystery of Will's disappearance,
they fall in love. Meanwhile the English are reinforcing
their garrison in the Scottish Borderlands, putting Fiona,
Richard, and Scotland in peril....
EXCERPT
Annandale, Scotland, 5 June 1377
His first slap made her left ear ring.
โNow see what yeโve made me do!โ he shouted over the
rush and roar of the river below. A half moon lit the grassy
track and revealed white foam on the water.
Holding a hand to her stinging cheek, seventeen-year-old
Fiona Jardine scowled at the tall, powerful-looking man who
had struck her and said stubbornly, โClouting me wonโt
change the truth, Will Jardine. It was your fault,
not mine!โ
He loomed over her, terrifying in his fury. โBy God,โ he
snapped, putting the face she had once thought so handsome
close to hers, โyeโll no talk to me like that!โ
โYouโre ape-drunk,โ she said. In the crisp night air, she
could smell the whisky on him, so powerful that it made her
dizzy just to inhale its fumes.
When he drew back his hand to slap her again, she tried to
get away, to protect herself. But his left hand shot out
then, and with bruising strength, he caught her by an arm
and whipped her back to face him.
โLet me go!โ she shrieked. But he did not let go, and he was
one of the strongest men she knew.
โAye, Iโll let ye go. After Iโve taught ye a lesson.โ
Struggling frantically and screaming with fear as she tried
to break free, she managed to duck the next slap, only to
suffer a backhanded blow instead that made her right ear
throb with pain.
Before she could catch her breath, he hit her again, a hard
smack of his calloused palm right across her mouth. Had he
not held her upright, she would have fallen. As it was, she
tasted blood and feared that he had loosened a tooth.
He laughed. โYe should ken fine by now, lass, that what I
say, I mean.โ
His next blow flew at her belly, but by twisting hard, she
took it instead on her side just above her waist. Gasping at
a pain so sharp that it took her breath away, she continued
to fight him anyway, out of pure terror. But the pain was
overwhelming, her strength fast waning, and his next blow
sent her reeling to the ground.
Her head struck something hard. Blearily, she saw him step
toward her.
Then, looming above her, he drew back his foot.
Through the stunning ache in her head, distantly, she heard
him say, โMayhap, now, yeโll remember to keep your
place, madam wife.โ
After that, she knew nothing more.
Chapter 1
Spedlins Tower, Annandale, 20 June 1377
The leather-clad, booted traveler approaching the open
kitchen doorway on the pebbled path running behind Spedlins
Tower paused at hearing a soft feminine voice inside:
โโI expect I should be spinning, too, aye,โ the maiden said
sadly. โBut it would be tโ nae purpose. I could never finish
so great a task in time.โโ
The traveler took a step closer as the voice went on,
creaking now with age, โโOch, but I could spin it all for
ye, aye,โ the old woman said.โ
โGey good oโ the auld crone!โ cried several childish voices,
as if they had many times heard the story and exclaimed
always at the same place.
The traveler smiled, recognizing the tale from his own
childhood. He moved nearer, trying to muffle the sounds that
his boots made on the pebbles of the path.
He saw the speaker then, seated on the stone floor of the
scullery with her back to him. Six fascinated children of
various ages sat in a semicircle before her.
Beyond, in the dim, vaulted kitchen, the traveler discerned
bustling movement and heard sounds indicative of
preparations for the midday meal.
The storyteller went on in a soft, clear voiceโdoubtless her
own, โSo the maiden ran to fetch her lint and laid it in her
new friendโs hand. Then she asked the old woman for her name
and where she should call that evening for the spun yarn.โ
One child, a dark lad of perhaps eight or nine, looked right
at the traveler.
The man put a finger to his lips.
Although the boy obediently kept silent, he continued to stare.
The storyteller continued, โBut the maiden received no
reply, for the old woman had vanished from where she stood.
The lassie looked long for her until at last she became so
tired that she lay down to rest.โ
Three of the children eyed him now as a fourth, the smallest
lassโblue-eyed with curly auburn hairโpiped up, โAye, and
when she awoke, it was gey dark!โ
โSo it was, Tippy,โ the storyteller agreed. โThe evening
star was shining down, and as the maiden watched the moon
rise, a rough voice startled her fromโโ
โWho is he?โ the same small lassie demanded, pointing
at the traveler.
The storyteller, turning, started and winced as she saw him.
She began awkwardly to get to her feet, saying, โGood sakes,
wherever did you spring from?โ
He noted first that she had black hair and light blue eyes,
and was stunningly beautiful, with delicate features, rosy
cheeks, and plump, creamy breasts, their softness rising
above the low neckline of her loose, blue kirtle. As she
straightened, he saw with a surge of unexpected
disappointment that she was heavy with child.
โForgive me for interrupting you, mistress,โ he said. โThey
told me at the stable that I should come this way as it was
quicker, and none would mind. But if you will bid someone
take me to Old Jardine, I shall leave you to finish your tale.โ
โThis is a good place to stop for a time,โ she said, raising
a hand to the short veil she wore over her long, shiny,
thick plaits, as if to be sure the veil was properly in
place. โI can easily finish the story later.โ
To a chorus of indignant protests, she replied firmly, โNay,
then, you must all go now to Cook and ask how you can help
him. Davy, you and Kate take care to see that the wee ones
know what they must do.โ
โAye, we will,โ the largest of the three lassies said. The
dark-haired, dark-eyed boy who had first noted the stranger
nodded his agreement, still eyeing him.
As the children scrambled to obey her, the young woman
turned her lovely eyes to the stranger again, adding,
โSurely, someone must have told you that Jardine of
Applegarth lies on his deathbed and refuses to see anyone.โ
โHe will see me,โ the traveler said confidently, noting that
the dark rims of her irises made them look transparent, as
if one might see right through to her thoughts.
โMercy, why should he see you? Have you no respect
for a dying man?โ
โI doubt that the old fustilugs is really dying. But he will
see me nevertheless, because he sent for me. Sithee, I am
his heir.โ
Instead of the hasty apology he had every right to expect
from a servant who had spoken so pertly to him, she
stiffened, saying, โYou must have taken that notion
from a tale of the same sort that Iโve just been telling the
bairns.โ
His temper stirring, he said, โMind your tongue, lass, lestโโ
โWhy should I? Do you dislike being told you are wrong?โ she
asked. โFor so you are if you claim to be heir to Old
Jardineโs estates.โ
Doubt stirred. No servant of the old manโs would dare speak
so boldly.
Despite their kinship, he barely knew Jardine. But if even
half of what he had heard about the contentious old
scoundrel was true, Jardineโs minions would tread lightly
and with great careโespecially when speaking to another
nobleman.
โWho are you, lass?โ he asked.
She gently touched her belly. โI am his heirโs mother, or
mayhap his heirโs wife. Whichever it may be,โ she added,
squaring her shoulders and giving him look for look, โI can
tell you without hesitation that you are not
his heir.โ
Stunned, he realized that Old Jardineโs lie came as no
surprise to him. He had suspected some deception but only in
that he doubted the old man was really dying. Ruthlessly
stifling the unexpected anger that leaped in response to her
near disdain, he said, โI expect, then, that you must be
Will Jardineโs wife.โ
โAye, of course, I amโor his widow,โ she added. โBut who are
you?โ
โKirkhill,โ he said.
She frowned. โShould I know you? Is that all anyone ever
calls you?โ
โPeople call me several different things. Some call me
Seyton of Kirkhill. But most folks hereabouts know me as
Kirkhill. My family has lived in upper Annandale for two
centuries. However, as I am Willโs cousin, you and I are
clearly kin by marriage, so you may call me Richard if you
like, or Dickon.โ
โI will call you Kirkhill,โ she said firmly but almost as if
her thoughts had briefly flitted elsewhere. โI warrant it
must be Lord Kirkhill, though,โ she added.
โMore to the purpose, my mother has the misfortune to be
that old scoundrelโs sister,โ he said.
โGood sakes, I did not know that Old Jardine had a
sister!โ
โI think sheโd liefer not be one,โ he said with a wry smile.
โBut he did send word to me that he was dying and bade me
hie myself to Spedlins Tower.โ
โThen I expect that I should go and tell him you are here
and see if he will receive you,โ she said. โI will get
someone to take you to a more comfortableโโ
โNay, my ladyโLady William, I should sayโโ
โโMy ladyโ is sufficient,โ she said. โNo one calls me Lady
William.โ
โโTis the usual way, so forgive me if I have irked you,โ he
said. โIn any event, I did not come here to kick my heels
whilst my crusty uncle takes his time to decide that he does
indeed want to see me. You will take me to him. First,
though, I want to hear about what happened to Will.โ
โSo do we all,โ she replied.
โGodโs troth, do you not know? Jardineโs messenger
told me that my uncle was on his deathbed and that I was to
be his heir, so I assumed Will must be dead. But as you have
that said you are either the heirโs wife or its motherโฆโ He
paused.
โAye,โ she said, touching her belly again. โI do not know
which it is. See you, Will was here; then he was not. He has
been gone for over a fortnight.โ
โThen I hope you will forgive my asking if you and he were
legally married. I am sure that no one informed my mother of
such a grand occasion, because she would certainly have told
me.โ
โAye, sure, we were legally married,โ she said with a flash
in her eyes and deep flush to her cheeks. โIf my good-father
did not tell his sister of our union, it was through no
fault of mine.โ
โIt would not have been your fault in any event,โ he agreed.
Looking away, she added, โHe has plainly called you here to
no benefit of your own, sir. Doubtless, you would be wise to
turn round and go home.โ
He waited until she met his gaze again, this time with
wariness in her eyes.
โDo I look like the sort of man who would do that?โ he asked.
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