by Jane Godman
“How did you do that, Edwin? What are these mysterious connections of yours?”
“Promise me you’ll not hate me more?”
She frowned at him. “I din’nae hate ye at all, but now ye have me mighty fretful.”
He laughed, drawing her into the crook of his arm. “My parents died when I was a child and I have no close family. I told you that.”
“You said you have a couple of cousins you see very rarely.”
“What a remarkable memory you have, my love. I may have omitted to mention that one of those cousins—a distant cousin—is Henry Pelham.”
Iona sat up very straight and turned to face him with widened eyes. “You omitted to mention that you are related to the Prime Minister?”
“I didn’t think you would be particularly impressed, given that he is so fiercely opposed to the Jacobite cause. Indeed, I thought it would turn you further against me. And we are really not close, you know. He was useful in the matter of Fraser, however. I persuaded him that a powerful laird working to soothe tensions in the Great Glen was exactly what was needed. If the truth be told, he is not overfond of the king or Cumberland. He was glad of an opportunity to work against them.”
Iona subsided back against him. “Do I know you at all, Edwin Roxburgh?”
“You do. You know everything about me. I have no other secrets. Except one…” He drew a ragged breath.
Before he could finish, Iona turned in his arms. “It does’nae matter. I know all I need to know of you. I love you, Edwin…that is all that matters.”
With a choking sound, Edwin buried his head in the curve of her neck. When he spoke again it was with his lips pressed against her flesh. “That was my final secret. I love you, my rebel lady. They were the words I thought I might never be able to say.”
Edwin rode his horse slowly around the perimeter of the grounds. Iona sat cross-wise on the saddle in front of him, her arms clasped around his waist and her cheek pressed against his chest. Cù-sìth pranced beside them, darting occasionally into the undergrowth to investigate some interesting sound. Reining in his horse, Edwin paused to look across his lands at Cameron House, where it clung, grey and determined, to the mountainside. Away in the distance, a curlew gave its mournful, otherworldly cry. The wind blew across the glen, carrying the fresh scents of heather, peat and pine. A fierce pride tugged at Edwin’s heart. He looked at this place now with the same eyes that Iona did. This was their home.
“Alec’s family have been released and are on their way home and Fraser has promised to give him a job at Lachlan,” he said. “You have been very generous considering what he did to you.”
“Och, no. Alec had no choice and it broke his heart to do it. What of Jack, what will he do next?” Iona asked.
“He has promised to go to France and remain there while I see what can be done to obtain a pardon from the king. It will be no easy matter, but Jack’s uncle is one of His Majesty’s advisors, so perhaps if we work together, we may secure his freedom.”
“And the Falcon?”
Edwin laughed. “A law unto himself, I fear. Who knows what mad escapade he will next engage in? Fraser has decided to have no further part in any law-breaking ventures, you will be pleased to know.”
“Aye, we Lachlans find our rebel days at an end, ’twould seem.”
He lifted her chin so that he could view her face. “Are you sorry?”
She shook her head, smiling up at him. “Och, no. You are my new adventure, Edwin.”
He kissed her long and hard, breaking away only to calm the horse when it became restless. “For the first time in ten years, I know what it is to be happy, Iona. That is what you have given me. I am finally free of Augustus Hendry. He can hurt me no more. The memory of what happened that night at Saint Helena-le-Clay will never leave me, but I can finally accept it was not my fault. It was the fault of an evil man. You have freed me from that. You scaled the walls I placed around my heart. Because of you they are no more. I wanted to tame you, but you have claimed me instead.”
“Does that mean ye’ll tame me no more?” She slid a hand inside his shirt, stroking his chest lightly. “Because I have a small confession. I quite like being tamed by you.”
He laughed. “We can tame each other.”
“Will we live here at Cameron House or must we go to London?”
“I have everything I want right here. Everything I thought I could never have. You.” He kissed the top of her head then turned to look at the sweeping view of the valley. “This. There is nothing I need in London.”
“Och, look at you, Edwin Roxburgh! Ye’ve become a highlander. Ye’ve found yourself a fond, bonnie wifie and a cosy wee hame.”
Epilogue
Six months later
Jack Lindsey lingered awhile on Swarkestone Bridge, marvelling at the tranquillity of the scene on this sunny morning. Although there was a faint chill in the air, the sky was bright and a light wind scattered powder-puff clouds across the clear expanse of blue. The scent of fresh-cut grass and damp woodland reminded him that he was home—back in England—and for good this time. The thought made his pulse quicken.
Jack dismounted and walked his horse over the long bridge, pausing to look down into the calm waters below. According to legend, Swarkestone Bridge was built in the thirteenth century by two beautiful, noble sisters who had been betrothed to a pair of handsome knights. One evening, the knights attempted to cross the hazardous River Trent on horseback at the fording point. They were swept away and drowned while the sisters looked helplessly on. Devastated by their loss, the sisters were rumoured to haunt the bridge on stormy evenings when the water was high. It was difficult to reconcile the serenity of the scene with the ghost story or the horror of his own memories. He halted at the spot where he had been shot by a young redcoat and where, in that brief horrific moment, the course of his life had been altered. Suddenly impatient with himself for wasting precious time on this nostalgic divergence, he leapt back onto his horse and began the final stage of this long journey.
When Jack paused again, it was on an incline at the edge of dense forest. He looked down on the large, golden manor house that seemed to slumber below him. It was set like a jewel in the green tapestry of well-ordered farmland. Close by was a smaller black-and-white timbered building with a thatched roof. The soft, aromatic breeze stirred his memory, and Jack’s heart beat a little faster. Delacourt Grange at last. He had dreamed of coming back here throughout the long, intervening months.
His mind easily conjured up a vision of Rosie Delacourt, the girl who had come to his rescue as he lay injured and close to death. He had promised to come back for her. At last, he was here. And a free man, with the king’s written pardon in his pocket. A short laugh escaped his lips. How could they have known, when they exchanged those passionate vows that, when Jack finally did return, it would be too late? That Rosie would be wed to another man? And not just any man. No, Rosie, his darling, laughing love, was now married to Sir Clive Sheridan, the very man who had betrayed Jack to the redcoats.
About the Author
I am an avid reader, reading anything from Jane Austen to Stephen King and everything in between. I have written stories ever since I could hold a pencil and I still have a copy of the medieval romance I wrote, longhand and in felt tip pen, when I was fourteen.
I live in England and love to travel to European cities which are steeped in history and romance. Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among my favourites. I am a teacher, married to a lovely man and mum to two grown-up children.
I write in a variety of genre including historical romance, paranormal romance, gothic romance and erotic romantic suspense. I also enjoy the occasional foray into horror and thriller writing.
Author Website: www.janegodmanauthor.com
Twitter: @JaneGodman
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Jane-GodmanAuthor/133131640171522
Email: [email protected]
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Now Available:
The Georgian Rebels Series
A Kiss for a Highlander
Don’t miss the first title in Jane Godman’s Georgian Rebel Series!
A passion that burns away centuries of hate…
The Georgian Rebel Series, Book 1
Stranded in the heart of England after Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hasty retreat, highlander Fraser Lachlan has sworn to stay by his injured friend’s side. But when a kindly English family takes Jack in to be cared for by the governess and healer at their Derbyshire estate, Fraser can only watch helplessly.
It’s just a matter of time before Jack is turned over to the Crown as a traitor, but Fraser’s attempt to rescue his friend is met with the blunt end of a candlestick.
Martha Wantage wears every reason she hates the Scots on her body—in the scars from a violent, fiery attack that killed her family. Now she has not only one unconscious Jacobite rebel at her mercy, but two. And she can’t resist cursing her enemy with the “kiss of hate”.
That kiss unleashes a storm of passion that rages quickly out of control. But with the legacy of Martha’s scars weighing heavy on her mind, and Fraser’s duty calling him to battle at Culloden, it may be too late to explore whether theirs is a desire born of hate…or love.
Warning: Contains a very sexy, masterful highlander and a demure, but defiant, governess who discovers the hard—very hard—way exactly what a Scotsman keeps under his kilt.
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Through sheer force of will, Ash Cohen raised himself and his younger brother from the London slums to become the best of confidence men. He’s heartbroken to learn Rafe wants out of the life, but determined to grant his brother his wish.
It seems simple: find a lonely, wealthy woman. If he can get her to fall in love with Rafe, his brother will be set. There’s just one problem—Ash can’t take his eyes off her.
Heiress Lydia Reeve is immediately drawn to the kind, unassuming stranger who asks to tour her family’s portrait gallery. And if she married, she could use the money from her dowry for her philanthropic schemes. The attraction seems mutual and oh so serendipitous—until she realizes Ash is determined to matchmake for his younger brother.
When Lydia’s passionate kiss puts Rafe’s future at risk, Ash is forced to reveal a terrible family secret. Rafe disappears, and Lydia asks Ash to marry her instead. Leaving Ash to wonder—did he choose the perfect woman for his brother, or for himself?
Warning: Contains secrets and pies.
The worst of times, the most passionate of loves.
In her family’s bookshop, Marie-Laure Vernet had adventure, romance and mystery at her fingertips. And intrigue, in the form of an enigmatic stranger as unsettlingly attractive as the scandalous books he smuggled. But he disappeared, and so did the bookshop’s meager fortunes.
Forced to work as a scullery maid, Marie-Laure struggles to keep the china in one piece—and herself away from the aristocrats’ wandering hands. Until unexpectedly, the Duc’s estranged son comes home, and Marie-Laure once again finds herself face-to-face with the fascinating stranger.
Joseph has braved every conceivable danger during his secret adventures outside France, but he knows no one is in greater peril than a pretty servant in the employ of his lecherous father. And the only way to protect her is to pretend to be her lover.
Behind his bedroom door, their chaste friendship blooms into a connection more erotic than the stories in any forbidden book. But desire, even love, may not be enough to overcome the forces society has arrayed against them…
Warning: Contains a relationship between a couple who love books almost as much as they love each other.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Taming His Rebel Lady
Copyright © 2015 by Jane Godman
ISBN: 978-1-61922-989-1
Edited by Anne Scott
Cover by Kim Killion
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Look for these titles by Jane Godman