Mariel Brandon is a woman who does a man's bidding - she's
forced to, for the safety of her young brother. In 1600s
England she acts as a spy, persuading secrets out of rich
men. Now she's ordered to gain the trust of two Scots
before they return to their own country. DECEPTION OF A
HIGHLANDER is on her mind.
Kieran MacDonald is a clan laird and takes his duties
seriously, but he also needs to socialise with wealthy
nobles. He doesn't want to be burdened with an English lass
and her maid as he's headed back home shortly. Mariel
offers to be his mistress, composing a sob story. Kieran
has no time for a woman's skirts. But she tricks him into
allowing her to accompany him on the journey. One part of
the story is true - Mariel does find Kieran handsome. In
her day, a wealthy man's wife is often put aside, unloved,
and a mistress adored and showered with gifts. She
believes that being Kieran's mistress would be a good
outcome. But her sour maid Jane is actually in the pay of
the spymaster, and will send critical reports if Mariel
tries to escape her mission.
While an earthy physical attraction exists between the Scot
and the English girl, Kieran isn't the sort to take
advantage, and the journey is tiring, especially the last
leg at sea to Skye. But before they reach his home, Mariel
has already had to prove herself in battle. The Border is a
lawless land. Can she settle to a few months of spinning
wool? Is Kieran ever going to give her the information
she needs? The family situation on Skye is more complex
than she'd thought, and she finds herself falling in love
with Kieran - a dangerous state of affairs.
Madeline Martin is writing for adults, with occasional
strong language, and the physical romance could be called
erotica. Mariel feels she doesn't deserve love, first
because of her sustained deception and second because of
her murky past. In a challenging life, she has to overcome
many obstacles to happiness, including her own moody
thoughts. As this exciting adventure DECEPTION OF A
HIGHLANDER shows, we can all find happiness, though maybe
not where we'd expected it. Madeline Martin now lives in
Florida, but she has lived in Europe and enjoys visiting
beautiful, historic Scotland.
Scottish Romance doesn’t get much steamier—or more
dangerous—than a
spy hunting her quarry, and losing her heart to him
instead.
To pay a seemingly impossible debt, Mariel Brandon has
become a spy
for Aaron, one of England’s deadliest minds. Aaron’s
latest mission
for the sharp-witted and daring Mariel is to find two
people in a
heavily fortified castle on the Isle of Skye, a castle
headed by the
clan MacDonald and the powerful Kieran. Mariel is to
seduce Kieran and
get him to take her to Skye. If she succeeds, Aaron
promises to let
Mariel’s young brother go, and to free both of them from
their debt.
If she fails, her brother will die.
What she doesn’t count on is craving Kieran MacDonald
almost
immediately upon meeting him. Now Mariel must keep a
secret from
Kieran—one that could get them both killed—as she tries
to form a plan
that will save her brother, get her out from under
Aaron’s thumb once
and for all, and keep her in Kieran’s strong arms
forever.
Excerpt
London, January 1604
The drug had taken effect. Mariel Brandon caught the
young earl as he slumped forward in a state of unnatural
relaxation and eased him back against the lush velvet
settee. A familiar ache tightened in her chest.
Aaron was wrong. She would never grow used to this.
The earl’s silk doublet was cool beneath her fingertips
and far superior to the fraying skirts she wore.
She averted her gaze, unable to bear the weight of her
own shame. He was younger than she had initially
presumed. Not any more a man than she was a woman.
His face would haunt her dreams. As the ones before him
already did.
Like all the others, he had fallen prey to her flirtation
and allowed himself to be pulled into the private,
sumptuous room in the bowels of Hampton Court Palace. The
information he’d been entrusted with fell from his lips
with a few kisses and a bared shoulder. The laudanum
laced wine kept her from having to make good on false
promises.
A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. It was a
reminder of why she did all this, of why she endured her
lost morality, of why she let part of herself die when
she coaxed men’s secrets. And every time, she slid deeper
into the shadows of sin.
Jack. Sweet, innocent Jack with laughing blue eyes and
silky black hair. He was but a pawn in the cruel game
Aaron played. They all were.
How many more men would she be forced to betray until her
brother would be released? Until the threat on his life
would dissipate and she could be free from this hell?
She reached without thinking and brushed the black curl
from the earl’s brow. Forgive me.
“Are you growing sentimental?” The voice laced with
sarcasm sounded from the shadows behind her.
The heavy odor of Aaron’s perfume filled her nostrils and
the familiar wave of nausea rolled her stomach. Mariel
fought the flare of emotion that rose within her. The
fear for what his presence represented and the hatred for
what he had done. The helplessness he confined her to.
“Don’t be silly.” She let her hand fall to her side.
“He’s just a boy.”
Aaron emerged from the dark corner of the room as she
turned to face him. His breeches and jacket were midnight
blue velvet, far more subtle than his usual attire.
She gave him a coy smile and sauntered in his direction,
playing the game that had been forced upon her. “To what
do I owe the pleasure?” Revulsion threatened her
composure as she pressed her lips to his dry powdered
cheek.
“I wanted to watch you work. I have to say, I’m most
impressed.” He glanced to where the earl snored softly
behind her. “How long will he be like that?”
“He will not wake until morning. And with a wicked
headache, poor man.”
Aaron regarded her with obvious suspicion. “So long as he
can never recognize you.”
Mariel pulled the heavy blond wig from her hairline,
revealing her black tresses beneath. The cool air was
heavenly against her scalp. “He leaves tomorrow.”
“And you never leave the house. I swear you are becoming
a recluse, poppet. If you killed these men, you could be
shopping and dancing like the rest of the girls.”
“You know what I want.” Keeping the malice from her voice
was becoming more difficult as time went on.
“Yes, yes—your brother.” He rolled his eyes heavenward.
“He is not yet ten,” she added with great patience. “I
haven’t been allowed to see him, and no one gives me word
of his welfare. Have you given him my letters?” She
pursed her lips to stop her desperate words. Aaron would
only use them against her.
A slow smile curved his thin lips upward and raised the
hairs on the back of Mariel’s neck.
“You will be most delighted with my news. I have one
final job for you. The benefactor paid enough to cover
the remainder of the fees you and your brother have
accrued.”
Despite her wariness, her pulse raced at the prospect of
their freedom. Never before had she been offered the hope
of immediate release. Mariel waited for him to continue,
but a thick silence settled between them. No doubt
intentional.
Aaron ran his gloved finger over the glossy top of a
marble table beside him. “There’s a Scottish barbarian at
court presently. You need to compel him with your…” His
gaze slid down her body. “…talents.” He rubbed his
fingertips together with a look of disinterest. “You must
discover the location of two people: Blair and Dougal
Hampton. If you can’t do this, you must kill him.”
“I don’t kill,” Mariel reminded him gently.
“And I am not refused.” The threat glinted like ice in
Aaron’s pale blue eyes. “Do you really think I would fund
your training if I only needed you to lure men to private
rooms and slip them a sleeping draught?”
Heat touched her cheeks and she hated that he would see
her discomfort, that he would know she had been so naïve.
Under his insistence, she had been educated in foreign
languages and customs. With honeyed lies served on a
silver tongue, he had prompted her to learn the art of
weaponry along with the ability to defend and kill using
only her hands, skills taught by Aaron’s famed Chinaman.
For her protection should something go awry, he had said.
And like a fool, she had believed him.
His bark of laughter rang out sharp in the heavy silence
of the room. “For one so intelligent, you can be so
foolish, poppet.” He shook his head. “Any whore can
garner secrets, but you…” He drew a deep breath and his
eyes widened, “…you are something special.”
His face eased into a wide smile that revealed one
crooked bottom tooth. “Besides, you need not kill him.
You are given three months to obtain the information you
need. After what I witnessed tonight, I doubt you will
need even half that.”
“Why so much time?” Her cheeks flared with heat. Asking
questions would only prolong the inevitable.
He gave a derisive snort. “Those Scottish beasts are
always wary of strangers. I’ve held the manor for years
and still the ghastly creatures don’t trust me enough to
do my bidding without question. Do you have any idea how
much it costs to staff a household with English servants
so far from home?” A sound of annoyance rolled from the
back of his throat. “Even you might need the full three
months to gain his trust. You’ll need to travel to
Scotland with him as I can assure you he won’t stay in
London long. You’ve perfected your Gaelic, I assume?”
Before she could answer, Aaron waved his hand
dismissively. “Of course you have.”
“What is the barbarian’s name?” The crude question sat
bitter on her tongue, but she knew to reference the
Scotsman otherwise would give Aaron cause to question her
sympathies.
“His name is Kieran MacDonald. You need to seek him out
tonight.” He glanced around the room. “Jane is with you,
correct?”
Mariel bit back a grimace. Jane had been sent to act as
her lady’s maid. For appearance’s sake, or so Aaron had
claimed. But Mariel knew the truth. He wanted her watched
at all times, especially after she had discovered where
they were keeping Jack. He’d since been moved, and Jane
had become her permanent shadow. As much as Mariel hated
it, she knew Jane hated it more and considered the task
beneath her.
“She is outside the door. While she may follow me at your
bidding, I work alone.” She lifted her chin, her heart
racing with the boldness of her challenge.
He studied her carefully for a moment. “Very well, but
she will travel with you to Scotland. That is not up for
debate.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t suggest otherwise.”
His bony knuckle rested beneath her chin and tilted her
face up toward his. “Heaven help the man when he looks
into your violet eyes and falls prey to the words
whispered from your sweet lips.”
She met his gaze and silently willed the impossible. “Let
me see Jack before I go. Just once.”
Aaron dropped his hand and sighed with impatience. “You
are wasting time. Go find the savage and secure a place
for you and Jane in his party as they travel back to
Scotland. I don’t care who you have to kill or seduce to
get there.”
Her heart sank low into her belly. Of course she wouldn’t
be able to see Jack. That she should have known better
did little to ease the burn of disappointment.
“I’ll make sure to give your regards to your brother when
I see him next.” The edge of warning in Aaron’s tone was
unmistakable.
Mariel’s gaze swept over the crowded room once more, but
to no avail. Several Highlanders stood out in King
James’s new court, but not one in particular looked
approachable to question about Kieran MacDonald.
Concentrating on the task at hand was impossible with the
heat of so many bodies in one small area. The air was
thick with heavy perfumes and left little room for
breathing. White spots dotted her vision and a cold sweat
broke out along her brow. She needed to get outside, to
breathe fresh air. Fainting would call far too much
attention.
She threw open the heavy glass door and found herself
submerged in the quiet dark of night. All traces of the
party were shut out as the door snapped closed behind
her. The late winter air nipped her heated cheeks and
turned her breath to white fog. Shadows stretched over
the garden below and shrouded various shaped hedges.
Did Aaron lurk in the darkness?
A shiver slid down Mariel’s spine as she imagined his
eyes trained on her. Would she ever live a life where she
was not constantly watched?
Doubtless Jane stood just inside the door—waiting,
spying…
Jack would be free once she betrayed Kieran MacDonald…or
killed him. Doubt niggled her conscience. Could Aaron be
trusted? Would he really free them when this was done?
She drew a deep breath of the frigid air in an effort to
steady herself. Women had been released from his clutches
before; she’d seen it with her own eyes. Besides, what
choice did she have? He had Jack, and if this was her
only opportunity, she had to take that chance at freedom.
Aaron had been correct in his reason for the length of
time she had been granted. The Scottish did not take well
to strangers, especially English strangers.
Winning a Highlander’s trust was a most impossible feat,
and if she managed it, her betrayal would be all the more
painful. No longer would her victim be someone she knew
only several hours.
A hard knot balled in her throat. Completing this task
would tear away the final vestiges of her morality.
To kill a man…She gripped the coiled iron railing and let
the metal bite into her damp palms. No, the option was
hers and she refused to kill. The truth would be found,
no matter what the cost to her conscience.
Who were these people being sought? Blair and Dougal
Hampton. Obviously brothers or perhaps father and son.
Most likely political refugees. Whoever they were, they
had caught the attention of the wrong people.
“If ye squeeze that bar any harder, ye may snap it from
the wall.” A man’s voice sounded behind her, startling
her from her reverie.
“What?” she gasped and spun around to face him. She had
not heard the door open.
Dark brown hair grew past the stranger’s shoulders, and
he stood a head taller than any man she’d seen in London.
His eyes were black against the darkness of night as he
studied her. “Why do ye cry?”
Had she been crying? She touched her cheek and met the
cold wetness of her tears.
The hard lines of his face softened as he regarded her
with a tenderness that made her long for the ability to
speak candidly to him, to be comforted by him. But she
was no ordinary woman with ordinary fears that were able
to be soothed.
She dragged her gaze from the warmth of his stare,
severing the delicate connection between them and kept
her silence.
“Will ye tell me yer name?” He moved closer, and a subtle
breeze carried the light masculine spice of his scent
toward her. She breathed deep before she realized what
she was doing.
“Mariel Brandon.” Her response came automatic and without
thought. Her heart slammed erratically within her chest.
She had given her real name. For the last two years she
had maintained an alias, her own name nothing more than a
memory. Yet here, in the face of a foreign stranger, she
had announced her true name without hesitation.
“Mariel,” he repeated in his hypnotic burr. The corners
of his lips tugged up in a ghost of a smile.
Something about him gave her a reassuring sense of
comfort and made him feel somehow trustworthy. Doubtless
he could help her find Kieran MacDonald. She drew a slow
breath around the sudden tightness in her chest. Like so
many before him, she would have to use this kind man to
her benefit. And she hated herself for it.
“Perhaps you might help me.” She stared up at him,
keeping her gaze innocent.
The golden glow of the lights from inside the palace
spilled onto the balcony and highlighted his strong
features. His jaw was hard, too sharp for his sensual
mouth, and his nose appeared bent as if it had been
broken before. He wore a kilt belted around his waist and
a simple jacket over his plain white leine, the garb of a
Highlander.
His eyes searched hers; his thoughts were impossible to
discern from his impassive expression. “What is it ye
need?”
“I’m looking for Kieran MacDonald.” It was a direct
approach, but Highlanders were a direct sort of people.
His face did not reflect any kind of recognition. “Why do
ye seek him?”
“I heard he returns soon to Scotland and hoped to secure
passage with his party.” She glanced down, unable to meet
his gaze. “I cannot stay in London any longer, and I have
nowhere else to go.”
“I hate to add to yer sadness, lass, but I dinna think he
will take ye.”
Mariel’s heart raced. So he did know him? “Why do you say
that?”
“Because I’m Kieran MacDonald.” His eyes narrowed. “And
I’m curious how ye came to know my name.”
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