by Sabrina York
Of course she did not.
She followed him in.
The solar was round and, unlike the rest of the miserable keep, quite opulent. A large draped bed dominated the room, flanked by a plush divan and an intricately carved table and chairs. A bottle of wine and the remnants of a meal sat on the table.
The McCloud approached the bed and poked his head through the curtains. “Violet,” he whispered. “You must wake up.”
“Hmm?” A drowsy murmur emanated from the bower.
“Violet. Wake up.”
“Ewan. Not yet. I’m sleepy.”
Kaitlin stilled. The tone of Violet’s voice was not that of a wretched prisoner—it was loverlike. A sultry purr.
The blood in her veins turned to ice.
When she’d run into him, the McCloud had been descending from this chamber—the only chamber at the top of the stairs. He’d been buttoning his shirt.
Holy hell.
He had seduced Violet.
The dastard!
He’d kidnapped her best friend and seduced her. And now he expected Kaitlin to marry him?
The perfidy of men was boundless.
“Come on, get dressed. Someone’s here to see you.”
“What?”
Kaitlin cleared her throat. “He said, someone’s here to see you.”
The McCloud whipped around, a fierce glower on his face. “I told you to wait outside!” he boomed.
“I’m disobedient.”
“Why, I ought to—”
“What? Beat me?”
He flinched. “I don’t beat women. Where did you get the idea I beat women?”
“You’re a villain!”
“But I don’t beat—”
“Kaitlin?” Violet thrust her head out between the curtains. Her eyes were wide and shadowed, her cheeks hollow. “Oh, Kaitlin! Is that you?”
She emerged from the bed, wrapping a blanket around her body, and flew across the flagstones to fold Kaitlin in a hug.
“Darling. You look…” She looked awful. There was an ugly brown-and-yellow bruise on her cheek and her eyes were puffy and she’d lost weight. Had he even been feeding her? And then… “Are you naked?” Kaitlin gaped. She turned to the McCloud and fixed him with a scorching look. “Is she naked? Why is she naked?”
He frowned and shuffled his feet and didn’t respond. The cad.
Violet tugged the blanket more tightly around her. “Oh darling, it’s so good to see you. But what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in London.”
“I came to rescue you.”
“You really shouldn’t have come. Now you will have to marry him.”
The McCloud cleared his throat. “I’m standing right here.”
“I had to come. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being held in his evil clutches because of me.”
“I’m in the room.”
“I know, but darling, how can I ever bear it? Knowing you gave up your freedom for mine? That you surely face a fate worse than death—”
“I can hear you!” the McCloud bellowed.
They both turned to him.
Kaitlin frowned, reminded. He had never answered her question. “Why is Violet naked?”
He scratched his beard. His gaze flicked from one to the other. “To…keep her from escaping.”
Holy God. How like a man.
“You are a brute. An absolute beast. And you want me to marry you? I swear to God in heaven above. I shall make your life a living, breathing hell.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. He was, all in all, looking quite like a trout. A scratch on the door saved him from answering.
“What?”
“Sir, there are visitors,” Pippin’s voice wafted through the wood.
“Stinking hell. More visitors?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “This place was supposed to be remote.” He stomped to the window and peered out. “Fuck.”
“What is it, Ewan?” Violet called.
Kaitlin shot a look at her friend. She clutched the blanket to her neck, but the look on her face said it all. She was positively mooning. Over the McCloud.
Kaitlin’s betrothed.
The man she didn’t want to marry.
What a mess.
“Your cousin, the duke, I presume,” the McCloud snarled. “And he’s brought a battalion.”
Chapter Seventeen
Edward stormed the castle with Transom and Ned at his side. He put his foot down and insisted that Hortense and the younger boys remain on the bank. Ned, he could not deter. The guards at the pier were not at their posts so they took the skiff and rowed across the river themselves.
They entered the great hall, preparing to battle McCloud’s men at every turn, but it was quite a different scene from the day before. The entire chamber had been scrubbed from top to bottom and it was deserted, but for a boy working by the hearth. It looked almost pleasant. Even as this realization hit home, the McCloud came thundering down the stairs.
He gaped at the empty hall as well. “Pippin!” he bellowed. “Where are my men?”
The boy glanced at the visitors and shrugged.”They all left.”
“They left?”
“Said they’d had enough of her. Went to town to drink in peace.”
“Hell.”
A curl of satisfaction wedged in Edward’s belly. Good. Ewan was here alone. If he wouldn’t hand over Violet, they would simply overpower him and take her. They had the Wyeths to do it.
“McCloud. We’ve come for Violet.”
“Where is she?” Ned stepped forward. His fingers were twitching again.
Edward stepped between him and his target. “Please, Ned. Let me handle this. The McCloud is a reasonable man.” He shot Ewan a speaking glance. “I trust you considered my offer.”
Ewan’s gaze flitted over the bristling boy. “Perhaps we could discuss this in private.”
“In private?”
“These are sensitive matters.”
What the hell could be so sensitive, Edward couldn’t fathom, but he nodded. “Fine.” He turned to Transom and Ned. “Wait here. And don’t interrupt.” This last bit was directed at Ned.
The two men crossed to the plank table by the hearth and sat facing each other.
“Well?” Edward said. “Did you consider my offer?”
“I did. It was very generous. Trouble is…” Ewan dropped his voice and sent him an odd look. “I can’t give them both up.”
Edward’s heart skittered. Was he being asked to choose? Between Violet—his sister—and Kaitlin? Because he couldn’t. “It’s a damn lot of money.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
Something in Ewan’s tone gave him pause. “What do you mean?”
“I…have a sister, you know.”
“I did not.” Edward frowned. Where exactly was this going?
Ewan blew out a long breath. “Everything I’ve ever done—the good and the not so good—has been for Sophie. I’ve built my fortune, but it’s still not enough for entrée. And she deserves a season.”
Edward blinked. “You want me to arrange a season for your sister?”
“If you take away my highborn bride? I must insist on it.” The McCloud’s eyes glittered. “It is the only way I can assure Sophie the chance of landing a decent husband. Of assuring her future.”
Edward cringed at the thought of yet another innocent living under his roof. But if it would gain Violet’s freedom and release Kaitlin from that damn betrothal, it would be worth it. Besides, he could empathize with Ewan’s concerns. Now that he had a sister—well, now that he knew he had a sister—he would move heaven and earth to assure a good match for her. “Agreed.”
“Excellent. She will stay with you, of course. I will take a house in London nearby. I assume you have an adequate chaperone?”
Edward tried not to snort. The last thing Sophie would lack would be chaperonage. “My aunt. She’s a battleaxe. And the boys will be there as well.”
<
br /> “The boys?”
“Violet’s brothers. They all live with me.”
Ewan blinked. “How…many are there?”
“Six.” Edward winced when he said it.
“Six?”
“It’s quite a full house.”
“That will be fine then. We shall arrive next month.”
Edward nodded. “And the money I owe you?”
The McCloud leaned forward, intensity thrumming from him. “If you do this for my sister, I will call us even.” The two men stood and shook hands.
A bustle at the top of the stairs captured their attention. Edward glanced up to see both Violet and Kaitlin rushing down toward them. Something feral snarled in his gut. Kaitlin—his Kaitlin—was nearly naked. She wrapped in a blanket and—good God!—wearing a man’s shirt. Her legs were bare. Her hair was askew. She looked like… She looked like she’d just been tumbled.
Absolute blinding fury racked him. He turned to his once-friend and the howling beast within him roared.
If the McCloud had so much as touched her, he would rip him limb from bloody fucking limb.
“What the hell?” Ewan muttered beneath his breath. He took a step toward Kaitlin. “I thought I locked you in the tower?”
And a red tide descended. Edward’s vision blurred.
The McCloud had stripped his woman. Locked her in the tower—and hell, he hadn’t even bothered to mention she was here!
A growl emanated from the depth of his being. Without so much as a thought, he did what Ned had been threatening to do for a week. He planted his fist squarely in Ewan’s face. As the big man fell with a resounding thud, absolute satisfaction scudded through him.
Kaitlin stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the fallen hulk. “Edward! You hit him.”
He stormed to her side and dragged her into his arms. “He locked you in the tower!” His brain couldn’t move beyond that thought. That and the fact she was nearly naked.
She grinned. “It was a very old lock. I have hairpins.”
Annoyance and then anger replaced his relief. Why was she here? “What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled.
She nibbled her lip, dropped her gaze. “I came to marry him, of course.”
He growled.
She was not fucking marrying him. No. She was not. “The hell you are. And what are you wearing? I swear to God, if he so much as touched you, I’ll kill him where he lays.”
“It’s the McCloud’s shirt.”
His vision blurred.
“Oh relax.” Violet patted his arm. For some reason that didn’t soothe him in the slightest. “Kaitlin gave me her dress. Mine was…torn and this was all we could find.” Edward’s attention snapped to her. His sister. God. He hadn’t even given her a thought. Once he’d seen Kaitlin, everyone else had faded away.
His heart thudded painfully. He yanked Violet into a harsh embrace and held her close until she squirmed. “Thank God you’re safe,” he muttered, over and over again. He buried his face in her hair to hide the tears prickling his lashes. When he’d recovered, he pulled back and cupped her face and looked at Violet again. Just looked at her.
She was so beautiful. He’d never noticed quite how beautiful before.
It took a moment for the hideous bruise ravaging her cheek to filter through his joy. His mood turned. He thumbed it gently. “What happened here?”
She swallowed. Her features arranged themselves into a very brave configuration. “I fell.”
Like hell.
He glanced back at the McCloud. Maybe he should have killed him after all.
Violet put her hand on his chin and turned his attention back to her. “I. Fell.”A certain expression flitted across her face and his pulse stuttered.
“And how did your dress get torn?”
Violet sighed and glanced at the mound of man motionless on the flagstones. “Never mind.”
“Violet. Damn it—”
“Please, Edward. Let it go.” Her shoulders drooped. She looked exhausted. She looked—
Edward frowned as a nasty suspicion curled through him. “Are you…all right?”
She nodded, then glanced at the McCloud once more. Shivered. “Can we just go?”
“Yes,” Ned snapped. “Let’s go. Before he wakes up.”
Well, yes. That was a good idea. “We won’t all fit in the skiff. Ned, You take Violet and Kaitlin and then come back for Transom and me.”
“I’m not going.”
Three words in a soft, sad, sweet voice. They were like knives in his gut.
Edward spun around and fixed Kaitlin with a glower. She winced. “What do you mean, you’re not going?” he snarled.
She shook her head, dashing at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I promised to marry him.”
“You’re not marrying him.”
“I promised!”
“You’re not fucking marrying him! You’re marrying me.”
Several gasps shot around the stony chamber. Edward wasn’t entirely sure where they all came from, and he didn’t care.
“You’re mine.” He yanked her into his arms and crushed her lips in a brutal kiss. He’d been starving for this, aching for this. He invested every bit of his love, his passion, his need into the gesture.
Still, when she pulled away—pulled away to fucking walk across the hall and stand next to the unconscious man on the floor—there were tears on her cheeks. “I will love you forever, Edward. I will. But I made a promise. He agreed to release Violet because I came.”
All of that nonsense ran through his mind like whiskey through a funnel—all but one little bit. He stalked to her side. “You love me?”
“Of course I love you.” She gazed up at him and he saw it there. In her gorgeous smoky eyes. “But I am betrothed to him.”
He kissed her. Couldn’t not. “He released you from the betrothal.”
She blinked. “He did?” A frown furrowed her brow. “But he was adamant…”
“I offered him something he wanted more. Come now, Kaitlin. Let’s leave this musty keep and find a chapel or a blacksmith or something.”
“That is so very sweet, Edward. But we can’t really be married.”
His heart plunged. “Why not?”
“You’re a duke.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She sighed. “You’re a duke and I’m a…”
“A what?” An angel? The woman who rescued his soul from oblivion? The reason he drew breath?
“I’m a fallen woman.” This, she hissed.
He laughed. Hell, he’d debauched her plenty himself. He’d really like to do it again. As her wedded husband. Tonight. “You think I give a fig about that?”
Her expression took on a mutinous light. “Society will.”
He laughed harder. “Society gets even fewer figs. No figs, in fact. They are figless in my estimation.”
There it was. Her smile.
He’d missed it.
“Marry me, Kaitlin. Be my wife. Make me the happiest duke in Christendom.”
She tipped her head to the side. “I can be quite a shrew at times.” She leaned in. “Just ask the McCloud.”
“Were you a virago?” A smile crept over his face at the thought.
“Why do you think his men fled?”
A guffaw escaped him, unbidden. He loved that she could make him laugh unexpectedly. He kissed her. The kiss deepened. Threatened to become something else entirely.
“Your Grace,” Ned called. His tone was not deferential in the least. “We need to go.”
Kaitlin turned her head—ending the kiss—and glanced at the McCloud. Why she had to keep glancing at him, Edward could not fathom. “We should go.”
“Yes. We should.” They had a big day ahead of them. A bigger night.
Perhaps they could find a willing smithy in Dundee who had a hankering for performing a marriage.
One thing Edward knew for certain, he was not waiting any longer than he abso
lutely had to, to have her again.
* * * * *
He did have to wait, as it happened.
He had to wait until Hortense could find Kaitlin a dress of some kind. The vicar they’d discovered was staying at their inn refused to perform a marriage when the bride was not clothed.
Damn Scots and their prickly customs.
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion. An award-winning author in multiple genres, Sabrina loves writing hot, humorous stories in all kinds of settings.
Sabrina York: Read Her Hotness, feel the heat.
Sabrina York welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Sabrina York
Extreme Couponing
Lust Eternal
Man Hungry
Noble Passions 1: Folly
Noble Passions 2: Dark Fancy
Pushing Her Buttons
Rising Green
Training Tess
Trickery
Wired 1: Adam’s Obsession
Wired 2: Tristan’s Temptation
Wired 3: Making Over Maris
Print books by Sabrina York
Noble Passions: Dark Fancy
Wired 1: Adam’s Obsession
Wired 2: Tristan’s Temptation
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Dark Duke
ISBN 9781419947384
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Dark Duke Copyright © 2014 Sabrina York
Edited by Kelli Collins