Scent of Scotland: Lord of Moray #1 (Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance)

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Scent of Scotland: Lord of Moray #1 (Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance) Page 3

by Mac Flynn

I couldn't tell you how long I slept, but when I awoke it was to the jarring movements of a fast carriage. My heavy eyes reluctantly opened and I found myself in an elegant carriage with cushioned, opposing seats. The windows were covered in thick black drapes so none could see in nor out, and the jarring motion of the carriage spoke of a quick speed.

  I occupied the rear-most seat while a gentleman with a fine cut of clothes sat opposite me. He sported a neatly trimmed beard, clean clothes, and bright eyes that showed no ordinary cunning.

  He bowed his head. "Good evening," he greeted me. I sat up, but the world spun around and I clutched my head. He stretched out his hand to me. "Careful, my lady. The scent still has its hold over your head and will remain for some time," he warned me.

  "Where am I?" I murmured.

  "On the road to Scotland some seventy-five miles north of London," he informed me.

  Such a statement jarred me from my hazy mind. I started and blinked at him.

  "Scotland? Do you jest?" I challenged him.

  He smiled and shook his head. "No, my lady, though I can understand your confusion. You see, Fate has decided another path for you then the one in which you believed you would remain."

  I clutched the strap close at hand as we bumped hurriedly over the uneven dirt roads and scowled at him. "I wish to be returned to London," I demanded.

  He again shook his head. "I cannot oblige your request, my lady. My laird insists on the pleasure of your company."

  "I do not care what your lord insists. You have kidnapped me, and I wish to be returned," I insisted.

  "Perhaps some food will ease your mind," he suggested. "We shall soon be stopped at an inn for the night."

  "Food will not change my mind," I warned him.

  "Then perhaps an explanation over a light meal, and a long night of rest will ease your mind," he returned.

  The carriage slowed and the man rolled up one of the thick drapes. The window revealed a small, dreary village covered in a mix of filthy snow and mud. The houses were little more than huts and they stood crowded together close to the road. The inn was an exception and was built of huge timbers dragged from the forests some ten miles off in the westward distance. There were two floors and many of the windows were lit with welcoming candles. A stable stood off to the left and the doors were open to welcome our carriage and horses.

  The carriage stopped, and a livery servant stepped around from the rear of the carriage and dropped the step. The man alighted first and turned to offer me his hand. I sat perfectly still and continued to glare at him.

  "You may stay in the carriage all night if you wish, but it will be rather cold and the livery servants have been instructed not to let you out of their sight," he informed me.

  I pursed my lips, but stood and alighted-without the use of his hand-from the carriage. The large front door of the inn opened and a man of great girth hurried out with more speed than I would have guessed him possible. He opened his arms and smiled at the stranger who rode with me.

  "Mr. McKenna, what a pleasant surprise it was to receive news of your coming!" the man greeted the stranger. The innkeeper grasped the man's hand and gave it a strong shake. "I hope business in London was pleasant."

  "Quite pleasant, Mr. Meriwether," the stranger, McKenna, replied.

  The innkeeper looked past McKenna and at me. His eyes widened. "And who is this lovely creature with you?"

  "A friend who is sorely in need of a warm fire and good food," McKenna answered.

  Mr. Meriwether stepped aside and swept his arm towards the open door. "Of course, Mr. McKenna, of course. How foolish of me to keep you out in the cold like this. Come inside and I shall have soup brought to you at once."

  "And we wish for a corner table," McKenna added as we were led towards the door.

  "Of course, Mr. McKenna, whatever you need," Mr. Meriwether Assured him.

  We stepped into the warm of the great room that occupied most of the front of the building. The open beams over our heads were blackened by countless fires in the large hearth on the opposite wall and to the left of the door. Thick wooden tables stood around the room, but we were led to the far corner where stood a table and benches that created a booth.

  I would have attempted escape, but two of the livery servants followed us inside and did not leave our sides until we were seated. A serving woman brought dishes and glasses filled with soup and the best wine the inn could offer. All the while our host stood by ever-smiling at us.

  "Is there anything else you will be wanting?" Mr. Meriwether asked us.

  "Only two adjoining rooms prepared for us and some solitude," McKenna replied.

  Our host bowed his head. "Of course, and if you should need anything further-"

  "We will summon you," McKenna promised.

  Mr. Meriwether left us and my companion picked up his glass. A smile graced his lips as he watched our host wobble away.

  "A charming enough fellow, and you won't find better food in all the inns of London," he assured me.

  "I would we rather be in one of those than here," I snapped at him.

  He sighed and set his glass on the table. "You are most persistent, my lady."

  "I am nothing of yours, and do not wish to be," I countered.

  McKenna swirled the contents of his glass and his eyes watched the wine spin in circles. "What if I were to tell you you are destined to be the bride of a great laird?"

  I furrowed my brow. "I would call you mad."

  He stopped his swirling and chuckled. "Then think me mad, for that is the life Fate has granted you."

  I stood and his eyes flickered up to follow me like those of a hawk on its prey. "First you kidnap me and then you mock me with your words. I will have no more of this and will holler for our host should you choose not to release me."

  A dark shadow passed over his brow and he slowly stood to his feet. "I must warn you that your word does not hold weight here, my lady, and you will find no friendly quarter here."

  I bunched my hands into fists and raised my voice so my words bounced off the old beams. "Stop calling me that!" I ordered him.

  My cry brought our host from the rear rooms. He hurried over to us and looked from McKenna to me and back. "Is there some trouble with the food?" he asked us.

  I whirled around to face him and startled him so he stumbled backwards. "I will be blunt and tell you that this scoundrel-" I raised my arm and pointed a finger at McKenna, "-has kidnapped me and intends to carry me to his master as an unwilling bride."

  Meriwether blinked at me before he turned to McKenna. "Mr. McKenna, what does this mean?"

  McKenna smiled. "It means we have supped enough and must retire. The lady is obviously tired from the long journey." He stepped towards me to grasp my shoulders, but I slipped out of his reach.

  "I am no such thing, and I will not be consoled until I am returned to my home in London!" I insisted.

  "Mr. Meriwether, would you please help me restrain the young woman before she hurts herself?" McKenna pleaded. "She is obviously not well."

  I glared at him. "I am perfectly in my mind and-" My arguing was interrupted when McKenna made another grab at me.

  I slipped away from him as before, but Meriwether now played the game and I could not escape them both. Meriwether grabbed my arms and held me still as McKenna pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket.

  "Forgive me, my lady, but this must be done," he insisted.

  "Let me go! Let me hrm-" Any further words were stifled by the cloth.

  The familiar repugnant odor filled my nostrils, and in a minute I again knew nothing.

  CHAPTER 4

 

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