AN IMPULSIVE ACT…
Lady Rois Drummond is
fiercely devoted to her widowed father, the respected Scottish Earl of Brom. So
when she believes he is about to be exposed as a traitor to England, she must
think quickly. Desperate, Rois makes a shocking claim against the suspected
accuser, Sir Griffin Westcott. But her impetuous lie leaves her in an
outrageous circumstance: hastily married to the enemy! Yet Griffin is far from
the man Rois thinks he is—and much closer to the man of her dreams…
AN IRRESISTIBLE
OUTCOME…
Griffin may be an
Englishman, but in truth he leads a clandestine life as a spy for Scotland.
Refusing to endanger any woman, he has endured the loneliness of his mission.
But Rois’s absurd charge has suddenly changed all that. Now, with his cover in
jeopardy, Griffin must find a way to keep his secret while keeping his distance
from his spirited and tempting new wife—a task that proves more difficult than
he ever imagined…
Excerpt:
Nay, Lord
Monceaux must nae see her father! Rois rushed into the torchlight and pointed a
pale finger at the baron. “He canna be trusted!”
Against the
smoke and stench of anger, all eyes shifted to her.
Heart
pounding, Rois took in the powerful lords, Scots who knew her, nobles who would
believe her claim. She caught her da’s frown and shook her head, thankful when
he remained silent.
“And why is
that, lass?” de Moray asked from his seat on the dais.
“Yes,” Lord
Monceaux added softly, his hooded gaze raking her from head to toe, “a fact I
would be interested to hear as well.”
The anger in
the English baron’s deep voice swept her, but his eyes, God in heaven, their
intensity seared her like a whip. What reason could she give to convince those
within the chamber he was unworthy? Thoughts battered her mind, but she
discarded each.
An idea
ignited in her mind. Nay, she couldna. ’Twas outrageous? As if with her da’s
life at stake, she couldna take the risk.
With her heart
pounding, she faced the Scots. “A month past, the baron took liberties with me.
After,” she hurried, refusing to meet Lord Monceaux’s gaze, “he gave me a false
promise he would return.”
“God’s teeth,
lass,” Lochlann muttered. “Are ye daft?”
Nay,
desperate. Several warriors cast curious glances toward Lochlann, but she
didn’t acknowledge him. She refused to endanger her friend or her father. She
would endure the consequences of her actions alone. Rois took another step
forward and started to speak.
But her mind
went blank.
Her father’s
face darkened with displeasure as he moved in her direction.
What was he
doing! Stay, she mouthed, and motioned for him to remain where he stood.
With a frown,
he paused.
Her body
trembling with relief, she turned toward Lord Monceaux, his expression that of
a man confident in his decisions, who scrutinized her as if prey. Heaven help
her, what had she done? Could she make her father understand her actions? Would
he ever forgive her? However much she longed to look at her father, she kept
her gaze leveled on the intimidating warrior.
After a long
moment, Lord Monceaux’s mouth curved with a confident tilt. “You were saying? I
believe something about why I cannot be trusted?”
At the soft
challenge of his words, her irritation trampled caution. Fine, let the braggart
talk his way out of this. “And, shamed I am to say, this man has left me with
child.”
Griffin stared
at the woman in disbelief. Against the wash of torchlight, a tumble of chestnut
hair embraced the sweep of her pale cheeks, and she had full lips that any man
would desire. But it was her eyes that held him, eyes as green and enchanting
as the fields of Scotland.
He stiffened.
Her beauty mattered naught.
Griffin
assessed the room stunned how the nobles eyed him with violence. Did they
believe her ludicrous claim?
His anger
grew. How dare the chit sabotage a situation already dire! From her sultry
burr, he knew she was a Scot and that she understood his presence within this
enemy stronghold placed his life in danger. Did she want him dead? God’s teeth,
never had he seen this woman in his life!
The warriors
closed around him, shaking their claymores, their teeth bared in the smoky
light.
Bloody hell,
if he didn’t quell her lie now—
“He does nae
deny it,” one man yelled.
Griffin
rounded on the Scot. “Wait!”
“Nay,” a
scar-faced laird growled, striding forward, “’tis long past time for waiting.”
At the man’s
words, the woman shifted. Face pale, she took a step back.
God’s teeth,
she was not abandoning him in this mire. The woman would admit her lie! When
she made to take another step back, Griffin caught her hand, aware of every
Scot in the room watching and waiting for the slightest error, for any excuse
to kill him. God’s teeth! In all his years of service to the king, he had never
been foiled by a woman.
Nor would he
be now.
“My lady,”
Griffin said, his words strong, clear of doubt, and, through sheer will, void
of anger. “’Tis my deepest regret you believe I have slighted you in any
manner.” He raised her hand, and was at once irritated by the sweep of
awareness, by the softness that lured him.
Anger sparked
in her eyes. She tugged to free her hand.
Griffin held
firm, lifting her fingers and pressing a chaste kiss upon her knuckles. Nerves
darkened her impossibly green eyes, eyes a man could drown in, eyes that would
make him beg. Bedamned. After her outrageous claim, he should feel naught but
contempt. But he wanted her, damnably so.
“If indeed I
have left you with child,” Griffin said, “’tis honor I offer you.” Eyes
narrowed, he scanned the room, meeting the impenetrable fury of each Scotsman’s
gaze. Satisfied, he turned to the stunning woman whose hand trembled within
his. “Before your peers, I will take you for my wife.”
Her face
drained of color, a reaction he’d expected. Well he understood Scotland’s
custom of handfasting, that once a pledge was issued in public and agreed upon,
they would indeed be wed. Feeling confident, Griffin waited for her to admit
the truth.
The growing
concern in her eyes assured him that she regretted her lie. ‘Twould be but
moments before she declared her false accusation to all, and he could return to
de Moray’s decision concerning King Edward’s offer.
Silence
battered the crowded chamber, thick with expectation.
Rois again
tried to yank her hand free of Lord Monceaux’s grip. He smiled down at her, but
no warmth existed in his hazel eyes. Could she fault him for his resentment?
Aye, Lochlann
had asked her if she was daft when she voiced her assertion. Well, now she sat
in a fine mess. Proof her mind was indeed muddled.
Shame filled
her. Of all of the mischief she’d stirred over the years, naught had reached
this magnitude. Why had she insisted on attending the meeting? And what of her
promise to her da to stay in the shadows unnoticed?
Her father.
Thank heaven
the men crowding around her and Lord Monceaux were blocking him from sight.
“Enough,” her
father declared. “Let me through.”
Nay! He
couldn’t make his presence known! Rois met the baron’s smug expression. Pulse
racing, she nodded. “Aye, I accept your offer of marriage.”
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