She raised one slender, gloved hand and pushed back the hood on her stylish cape. He found himself under the regard of calm, dark eyes in a face that was striking for its hauteur.
Not at all his sort of woman, he could already tell. Too high-handed by far. Nonetheless, despite the urgent circumstances, he couldn’t help taking a split second to admire her. While the lassie mightn’t be to his taste, she was a prime article.
And by heaven, she was brave. Most women he knew would be in hysterics after that crash.
“No. Just a little shaken,” she said steadily. “But I fear Papa has broken his leg.”
To confirm this, a groan and a stream of curses in Italian emanated from the coach’s shadowy interior.
“He’ll end up in the drink if we don’t get him out. So will you. Is there anyone else in the carriage?”
“No, only the two of us.”
For a brief moment, Fergus wondered why she wasn’t traveling with a maid. The carriage was expensive, and so was that cape. Discreet jewels sparkled at her ears and throat. Whoever the lady was, someone had spent money on her appearance and comfort.
After months of rain, the bank was all mud and not the most reliable foundation. To anchor the carriage, he stood on the step. “Can you get out alone, or should I lift you?”
When she shoved uselessly at the door handle, the coach gave an ominous creak and tipped closer to the rushing brown water. “I think—”
“For pity’s sake.” Fergus wrenched open the jammed door with a grunt of effort, and hoisted her free.
He had a brief impression of lily fragrance and a tall, nicely curved body, before he set her on her feet on the road. She clutched a worn leather satchel that seemed too big for a lady.
“Well, that was decisive.” In the rain, she looked as ruffled as a wet hen, but he didn’t have time for politeness.
“Stay there and don’t move.”
He turned to shout at the coachman who was hauling the horses up the bank, away from the bridge. “Are the horses hurt?”
“No, my lord, only frighted.” The man edged away from Macushla and Brecon who approached him, more out of canine curiosity than aggression, Fergus knew.
“Then get down here and help me,” he said, blinking the rain away from his eyes.
“But the horses, my lord—”
“They willnae wander far, if they wander at all.”
Fergus returned to the step and stuck his head into the carriage. The lady’s father turned out to be a portly gentleman huddled in the far corner, just where he was most likely to tip the vehicle. The light inside was dim, but not too dim to hide the unnatural angle of the man’s left leg as it dangled in the well between the seats.
“Maledizione. I told Marina this viaggio was cursed, but does she ever listen to her papa?” the man said in a thick Italian accent. “No, not that one. She always knows best.”
“Papa, stop complaining and come forward so we can pull you free,” the woman—she was no ingénue, but at least in her middle twenties—said from beside Fergus’s shoulder.
He stifled a growl of annoyance. No wonder she hadn’t objected to his orders. She’d decided to ignore them instead. At least when she added her weight to his on the step, it helped counterbalance the tilting carriage. Even if things were a wee bit cozy for strangers, with the two of them sharing the narrow metal platform.
“My leg, she hurts,” her father groaned, shifting further away.
Fergus bit back a curse. If the coach slipped now, all three of them would end up in the burn.
“The rest of you will hurt if you fall into the river,” the woman said, edging closer to Fergus. The scent of lilies mixed with the fresh smell of the rain. When she reached inside for her father, the carriage gave another alarming creak.
“Get out of the way, lassie. This is no place for a woman,” Fergus snapped, catching her by the waist again. He’d already rescued her once. He shouldn’t have to do it twice. “And mind the broken glass.” Jagged shards littered the seats and floor.
“Oofff,” she gasped as, with little ceremony, he hauled her off the step.
“And stay there, ye wee besom,” he said, plopping her back on the road with no great expectation she’d heed him. She hadn’t yet.
If he had time, he might call her unwomanly. If he had time, his appreciation for those fine eyes might convince him she was very much a woman after all. “You’re getting in the way.”
“My father isn’t a small man,” the woman said breathlessly, as she staggered to keep her feet. He noted that, unlike her father, she spoke English with the clipped accents of the upper classes. Perhaps once they were out of this blasted mess, he’d find out why. “You’ll need help.”
“I’m sure I can manage, madam.” He didn’t delay to make sure she was all right. Using his sleeve to brush the glass shards from the seat, he leaned in to assess what he needed to do. “Can you slide across to the door, signore? It will be easier on your leg that way.”
“I can’t move,” the man moaned, pressing against the far door. When the shift in weight set the carriage rocking, Fergus’s stomach twisted in dread.
“Si, you can,” the lady said. She was back peering over Fergus’s shoulder. Just his luck to be stuck with a woman unable to recognize the voice of authority, not to mention good sense. “I know it hurts, Papa, but if you use your good leg, you can do it.”
The man’s terrified eyes sought out his daughter, and Fergus recognized paralyzing fear. So far, the older man showed considerably less fortitude than his daughter. “You’re una ragazza crudele, and the angels despair of you.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Fergus said between his teeth.
“Papa, if you don’t come out, I’m coming in to get you. Then it will be your fault if we both drown.”
“Per pietà, this won’t work.”
“Try, Papa. Per favore. You don’t want to be buried in Scotland.”
“Certo, I do not! Even for a dead man, this country is too cold.”
“In that case, you have to move.”
Fergus was about to tell the woman to be a bit gentler with her father’s fears, when to his surprise, he saw determination seep into the plump features. “For you, then, figlia mia.”
“Take my hand,” Fergus said on a surge of hope, reaching in, while still trying to use his weight to keep the carriage level.
“You, Coker, come and hold the broken shaft to keep the coach steady,” the woman said sharply behind Fergus. Coker must be the blockhead of a coachman.
Grunting in pain, the Italian began to shift gingerly in Fergus’s direction. Halfway along the leather seat, he stretched out a shaking hand. Fergus lurched forward to grab the man’s wrist as he felt the carriage settle further into the mud. Coker must have at last decided to lend his aid.
The next few seconds became an agonizing nightmare of suspense. It seemed to take the older man an hour to get into position. Beside him, Fergus heard the woman’s unsteady breathing and what he thought was a whispered prayer or two.
He realized she wasn’t quite as unemotional about her parent’s plight as she pretended. He liked her better for the hint of vulnerability, and for her courage in keeping it to herself.
This time, he didn’t waste his time telling her to stand back, although if the coach went into the burn, it would take half the bank. The mudslide would carry her away with it.
You can read the rest of the story here!
The Laird's Christmas Kiss: The Lairds Most Likely Book Two
Down with love!
Ever since she was fifteen, shy wallflower Elspeth Douglas has pined in vain for the attentions of dashing Brody Girvan, Laird of Invermackie. But the rakish Highlander doesn’t even know she’s alive. Now she’s twenty, she realizes that she’ll never be happy until she stops loving her brother’s handsome friend. When family and friends gather at Achnasheen Castle for Christmas, she intends to show the world that’s she’s all grown up, and grown ou
t of silly crushes on gorgeous Scotsmen. So take that, my gallant laddie!
Girls just want to have fun…
Except it turns out that Brody isn’t singing from the same Christmas carol sheet. Elspeth decides she’s not interested in him anymore, just as he decides he’s very interested indeed. In fact, now he looks more closely, his friend Hamish’s sister is pretty and funny and forthright – and just the lassie to share his Highland estate. Convincing his little wren of his romantic intentions is difficult enough, even before she undergoes a makeover and becomes the belle of Achnasheen. For once in his life, dissolute Brody is burdened with honorable intentions, while the lady he pursues is set on flirtation with no strings attached.
Deck the halls with mistletoe!
With interfering friends and a crate of imported mistletoe thrown into the mix, the stage is set for a house party rife with secrets, clandestine kisses, misunderstandings, heartache, scandal, and love triumphant.
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The Highlander's Lost Lady: The Lairds Most Likely Book Three
A Highlander as brave and strong as a knight of old…
When Diarmid Mactavish, Laird of Invertavey, discovers a mysterious woman washed up on his land after a wild storm, he takes her in and tries to find her family. But even as forbidden dreams of sensual fulfillment torment him, he’s convinced that this beautiful lassie isn’t what she seems. And if there’s one thing Diarmid despises, it’s a liar.
A mother willing to do anything to save her daughter…
Widow Fiona Grant has risked everything to break free of her clan and rescue her adolescent daughter from a forced marriage. But before her quest has barely begun, disaster strikes. She escapes her brutish kinsmen, only to be shipwrecked on Mactavish territory where she falls into her enemies’ hands. For centuries, a murderous feud has raged between the Mactavishes and the Grants, so how can she trust her darkly handsome host?
Now a twisted Highland road leads to danger and passion…and irresistible love. But is love strong enough to banish the past’s long shadows and offer these wary allies all that their hearts desire?
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The Highlander's Defiant Captive: The Lairds Most Likely Book Four
Peace in the glens means war in the bedchamber!
Scotland. 1699. In a time of heroes, the greatest hero of all is Callum Mackinnon, Laird of Achnasheen. Brave, reckless, canny, and handsome enough to turn any lassie weak at the knees, Callum is a legend in the wild corner of the Highlands where he rules. Now the young laird is determined to choose a new path for his clan and end the violent feud with the Drummonds, a conflict that has painted the glens red with blood for centuries. This means taking Bonny Mhairi Drummond, the Rose of Bruard, as his wife. When negotiations with her pig-headed father break down, Callum seizes matters into his own hands and kidnaps the fairest maiden in Scotland, swearing to make her his own.
Bonny Mhairi is the adored only child of Clan Drummond’s doughty chieftain and she’s inherited all her father’s courage and stubbornness. Not to mention his undying hatred for anyone called Mackinnon. When the Mackinnon chieftain steals her away from her home and vows to woo her into accepting him as her husband, she swears that she’ll never consent to be his bride. But trapped inside her foe’s castle, Mhairi finds it hard to cling to old certainties. She detests her arrogant jailer, even as he sparks a fierce, forbidden hunger in her soul.
Loving the enemy…
As Callum and Mhairi wage their passionate war of hearts, danger, treachery and desire circle closer and closer. When her father’s army masses at the gates of Achnasheen, will Mhairi prove herself a Drummond now and forever? Or will new allegiances trump ancient hatred, as the desperate laird battles to win the lass he loves more than his life?
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The Highlander's Christmas Quest: The Lairds Most Likely Book Five
She’s found the man for her, but he has no plans to stay on her island. Perhaps it’s time to try a little sabotage!
Scotland. 1725. The moment she sees handsome Dougal Drummond, Kirsty Macbain tumbles headlong into love. A chance storm a few days before Christmas has blown the gallant Highlander off-course to her father’s isle of Askaval, but once he’s repaired his boat, Dougal is determined to continue on his way. His bright blue eyes are firmly fixed on valiant deeds and a distant horizon. What does he care for a smart-mouthed, independent lassie who forms no part of his plans for his future?
Kirsty is convinced that if only she can keep Dougal on Askaval, he’ll see how perfect they are together. With his boat out of action, he’s trapped in her company. Some surreptitious midnight destruction with a drill and a hammer might help true love to win out. On the other hand, if Dougal discovers what she’s been up to, there will be the devil to pay.
Will this madcap Christmas deliver Kirsty’s heart’s desire – or will her scheming see Dougal sailing away to a life without her?
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The Highlander's English Bride: The Lairds Most Likely Book Six
An impossible pairing…
Hamish Douglas, the mercurial Laird of Glen Lyon, has never got along with independent, smart-mouthed Emily Baylor. Which wouldn’t matter if this brilliant Scottish astronomer didn’t move in the same scientific circles as Emily and if her famous father wasn’t his mentor. But when Emily looks likely to derail the event which will make Hamish’s career, he loses his temper with the pretty miss and his recklessness leaves her reputation in ruins.
A marriage made in scandal…
Emily has always thought her father’s spectacular protégé was far too arrogant for his own good. But what is she to do when the only way she can save her good name in society is to wed the unruly laird? Reluctantly she accepts Hamish’s proposal, but only on the condition that their union remains chaste. That shouldn’t be a problem; they’ve never been friends, let alone potential lovers – except that after they marry, Hamish reveals unexpected depths and a host of admirable qualities, and he’s so awfully handsome, and now the swaggering rogue admits that he desires her…
From the ballrooms of London to the grandeur of the western Highlands, a battle royal rages between these two strong-willed combatants. Neither plans to yield an inch – but are these smart people smart enough to see that sometimes the greatest victory lies in mutual surrender?
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About the Author
Australian Anna Campbell has written 11 multi award-winning historical romances for Avon HarperCollins and Grand Central Publishing. As an independently published author, she’s released 25 bestselling stories, including seven in her latest series, The Lairds Most Likely. Anna has won numerous awards for her Regency-set stories, including RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice, the Booksellers Best, the Golden Quill (three times), the Heart of Excellence (twice), the Write Touch, the Aspen Gold (twice), and the Australian Romance Readers’ favorite historical romance (five times).
Anna loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at:
Website: www.annacampbell.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AnnaCampbellFans
Twitter: AnnaCampbellOz
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/anna-campbell
You can find all Anna’s books at Smashwords
The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress Page 18