by Amanda Scott
“Faith, did you find our beasts and take them for yourself?”
His mouth gaped, but it was the last straw. Gripping one slender arm, he turned her toward her bed, sat on it, pulled her across his knees and gave her a smack on her leather-clad backside hard enough to make her screech. “That’s one for Rab,” he growled before smacking her harder. “That’s for Black Corby.” Then, with the hardest smack, he snapped, “And that one is for me.”
Livid with anger, nineteen-year-old Robina Gledstanes struggled to free herself. “Damn your eyes, Dev Ormiston, let me go! May God curse you from here to your satanic home in Hell. Release me, damn you!”
“Such pretty language,” he said sardonically. “Mind your tongue, Beany, or I’ll smack you again.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said grimly. “Only Rab…” Her twin’s name caught in her throat, but she swallowed it and said, “Only he could call me that. And, come to that, I learned my pretty language from him—and from you.”
Resting his big hand on her backside, he said evenly, “I doubt if Rab would accept that as an excuse for such curses flying from your lips any more than I do.”
He’s right about that, you wee vixen.
A shiver shot through her, and she sighed. “Just let me go, Dev, please.”
He released her then, and she stood, resisting the urge to rub her backside. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it stung.
“Put on some proper clothing and meet me downstairs,” he said grimly. “I have much more that I mean to say to you.”
“I won’t,” she retorted. “I don’t want to hear it, Dev. You have no right to call me to account.”
“You’ll do as I say, or by God, I’ll strip you myself and take leather to you.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
He sighed. “You know better than that, Robina.”
You damn well should, so dinna be daft.
Angry, unexpected tears welled in her eyes at the sound of that persistent voice in her head. It was so clear that it was as if Rab were standing right behind her, watching them… and taking Dev’s side against his own sister.
She stared down at the floor, fighting the tears, willing Dev to leave.
Instead, he added softly, “Besides, Robby-lass, who is here to stop me?”
“I am,” said a small voice firmly from the doorway.
Startled, both of them whirled toward it and saw a towheaded boy standing there with a raised dirk in his hand. The weapon was longer than his arm.
“Benjy!” Robina exclaimed, pushing roughly past Ormiston to confront her nine-year-old brother. “Whatever are you doing out of bed?”
“Sakes, who could sleep wi’ such a din going on in here? What’s Dev doing here anyway, Beany, and why were ye a-screeching like a banshee?”
“Hand me that dirk,” she commanded. “And remember to offer it hilt first.”
The little boy obeyed her, saying, “Ye ken fine I wouldna hurt ye.”
“I ken fine that you belong in bed,” she said.
“I’ll take him,” Ormiston said, moving past her and taking the dirk from her hand as he did. “You put some clothes on, Robina. I’ll meet you in the hall.”
“Where did ye come from, Dev?” the little boy asked, looking up at him.
“From Hermitage Castle in Liddesdale,” he said. Then, putting a hand to the boy’s shoulder, he added gently, “But you should address me as Sir David, you know, or ‘sir,’ not Dev.”
“Hoots, nae one else here calls ye aught save Devil Ormiston. But Beany and me call ye Dev, though, just like our Rab did.”
Benjy’s voice faltered on the last three words.
Urging him gently across the landing to his bedchamber, Ormiston pulled Robina’s door shut behind them, hoping it would stay put despite its broken latch, and said, “D’ye still miss him sorely, laddie?”
“Aye, sure, don’t you?”
Ormiston paused to be sure his own voice would not betray him before he said evenly, “I do, aye, but it is our duty to go on with our lives, you know. I know it’s hard, Benjy, but our Rab would want us to be strong.”
“Even Beany?”
“Beany is strong,” Ormiston said, wishing she were less headstrong.
“But ye’re sore vexed with her, aye? I heard ye.”
Ormiston pulled back the covers on the boy’s cot. “In you get now,” he said.
“Dinna be mad at our Beany,” Benjy said. “She gets sad, too, just like us.”
Robina finished twisting her long hair into a plait and declared herself garbed well enough to avoid further censure. She had heard Benjy say that they always called him Dev and wondered what Dev would say to her about that.
Likely nowt, the voice in her head said. He’s far too wroth with you to let aught that wee Benjy says deter him from scolding you. Mind your step when you go down, and listen quietly to whatever he says. Do not challenge or sauce him!
She grimaced, knowing that Dev was already waiting for her, because she had heard him go downstairs. Before that, she had heard the hum of his voice in Benjy’s room and of Benjy’s answering him, but that was all.
Her backside still stung. Although she had known him for nearly six years, she had never known him to be as angry as he was right now. Sakes, what was she going to tell John Greenlaw to explain her broken door?
She would think of something. Meantime, Rab’s advice was good, if only she could make herself follow it. Unfortunately, Dev’s very nature, and her own, almost compelled her to defend herself in every way against the man.
Not only was he the handsomest creature to stalk the Borders, but he also seemed to think he was the smartest one and the finest man ever to ride a horse, wield a sword, or… sakes, to do anything!
Entering the hall, she saw that Dev had lit torches and candles and was on one knee now, putting peat chunks on the fire that he had stirred to life.
He straightened when he saw her, and she saw that he looked tired.
He moved closer, eyeing her narrowly, and she marveled yet again at how blue his eyes were, even by candlelight. She could tell that he had been traveling, because he had not shaved or had his man shave him. The dark growth appeared to indicate such a lack for several days, but it looked good on him.
He frowned. “What?”
The single word surprised her. She had expected him to begin ranting the moment he saw her.
“You said you had much to say to me. Are you still furious?”
“I am. Come and sit down.”
“I’d rather stand, thank you.”
His mouth quirked into a near smile. “You deserved every lick.”
“I know that you think so.” She nearly added that Rab did, too, but she did not want to have that conversation with him.
“I think you know that I’m right, too,” he said. “What were you thinking?”
“That our people need food,” she replied. “You know that the raids have begun again, and the Douglas does naught to stop them.”
“I thought you were sending for your aunt and cousin to stay with you.”
She shrugged and then wished she had not when his dark eyebrows snapped together again. To divert him, she said, “You know that you and your men cannot stay here tonight, Dev. Greenlaw would suffer an apoplexy. You’ll have to ride on.”
“I know. I’m expected at the Black Tower before dawn.”
“You told Benjy you’d been at Hermitage,” she said. “With Douglas?”
“Aye, but we are not going to talk about me, Robina. What became of your aunt and cousin?”
“I don’t want them. This tower is impregnable. As you know very well, it survived the siege of 1403, and it will survive another one if necessary. Greenlaw saw to it then, and he will see to it again if he must.”
He drew a deep breath, and when she saw his hands fisting, she took a hasty step back. He shook his head then—at himself, she knew—and his hands relaxed.
“Y
ou know I would never use my fists on you, Robby. But what do you think would have happened if, instead of my men and me, those chasing you tonight had been a raiding party? What if English raiders had followed you here?”
“We’d have barred the doors, of course. I told you!”
“Think, Robina. You ran across the yard and in through the postern door. You did not even bar it, nor would you have had the time, and Greenlaw is asleep. The risk you took if you went raiding, as I now believe, was unacceptable. I’m going to see that you don’t endanger yourself so again. I promise you that.”
“You can’t promise any such thing. You don’t have the right!”
“You said that before, lass. You’d do well to remember my reply.”
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Epigraph
Map
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Other Books by Amanda Scott
Raves for the Novels of Amanda Scott
A Preview of Devil’s Moon
Fall in Love with Forever Romance
Newsletters
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Lynne Scott-Drennan
Excerpt from Devil’s Moon copyright © 2014 by Lynne Scott-Drennan
Cover illustration by Alan Ayers, design by Elizabeth Turner
Cover copyright 2014 by Hachette Books Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First ebook edition: September 2014
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ISBN 978-1-4555-5664-9
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