by Connie Mason
Rob squared his shoulders and walked over to kneel before the judge. “Father, ye have a verdict.”
“By dint of trial by combat,” the judge said in a quavering voice of disbelief, “Elspeth Stewart is found innocent of witchcraft. She is free to go.”
Accommodating as a whore, the crowd roared its approval. They’d come for a spectacle, and by God, they got one. It didn’t matter one whit that it wasn’t the one they’d expected.
Rob stood. “Lachlan Drummond died without an heir. Release Lord Stewart. He and I will meet with the leaders of the Clan Drummond to help ye choose a new laird.”
The cheers that greeted this proved Lachlan Drummond’s passing would not be mourned overmuch.
Then Rob walked toward Elspeth, the crowd scrambling out of his way like sheep giving a wolf a wide berth. He held a hand up to Elspeth.
“And as laird of the Clan MacLaren, I’m choosing a new lady.” His eyes shone with love. “If she’ll have me.”
“With all my heart.” She accepted his hand as he helped her dismount. He swung her into an embrace and deep kiss.
The fickle crowd roared with as much enjoyment over this display as they had for the combat that led to the death of their laird.
***
Later that evening, Rob and Elspeth were reunited with her parents, and they feasted in Lachlan Drummond’s hall with Osgar Drummond, the good man named to succeed him. Osgar’s first act was to expel Father Kester, Mrs. Beaton, and the other false witnesses from his keep. Rob and Elspeth’s father admonished them never to show their faces on MacLaren or Stewart land again either, lest the lairds be in a less merciful mood.
As the evening wore down and wine flowed freely, the old serving woman, Normina, leaned to whisper in Rob’s ear.
“I ken where she lies, my lord.”
Rob’s head turned sharply toward the woman, but his hand gripped Elspeth’s more tightly.
“Yer lady wife,” Normina said. “A kindly lady, she was. If ye wish, I can show ye where she rests.”
“Go, Rob,” Elspeth whispered. “Ye should go.”
He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “If ye come with me.”
They said their good nights to their host and donned heavy cloaks to follow Normina into the night.
They slipped out of the castle by a small gate and tramped toward a copse of trees. Snow-kissed air washed down from the surrounding peaks, but there was a break in the clouds, and the moon shone on their path with silver light.
Normina led them to a massive fir. Protected from bitter winds by the giant tree, a cairn of granite stones lay in the leeward side. Frost glittered on the mound, bedecking Fiona MacLaren’s grave with pinpoints of light.
“She deserved better, my lord,” Normina said softly. “So I tend her resting place. In the spring, I’ll plant heather and holly, so even once I’m gone, she’ll still have flowers.”
Rob nodded his thanks as Normina withdrew, his heart too full for words, his gut all a-jumble. If Fiona was there, she’d be able to tell him what he was feeling.
“I’ll leave ye for a bit,” Elspeth said softly and started to pull her hand from his.
“No, stay. I want ye here,” he said. “’Tis fitting. Fiona was the first woman I ever loved.” He turned to Elspeth and cupped her cheek. Her hazel eyes sparkled up at him. “Ye are the last. And I’ll love ye, Elspeth Stewart, with my whole heart till I’m dust. Longer, if such things be.”
He lowered his mouth to kiss her, savoring her sweetness mixed with the salt of a tear. He thought it was hers but couldn’t be sure. The last hint of madness sizzled out of him. He was no longer driven, no longer tormented. He felt only peace and love and longing for more of Elspeth Stewart. She was the woman who filled his heart. Filled his bed. And, God willing, would fill his hall with rosy-cheeked bairns.
And from that place, where only love bides, Fiona MacLaren looked on and smiled.
Here’s a sneak peek at
Lord of Fire and Ice
by Connie Mason with Mia Marlowe
Katla wished Brandr wouldn’t keep turning those deep, amber eyes on her. They made it hard for her to think.
“I’m not sure what you’re fit for,” she said, willing herself not to betray how his hard body affected her. The son of Ulf had the frame of a warrior, honed to lean fitness. His muscles stood out beneath smooth skin marred by only a few battle scars.
Katla’s bed had been cold for three years. She didn’t miss having a husband countermand her decisions, but she sorely missed the feel of a man’s body. Brandr Ulfson made her remember that longing in exquisite detail.
She set her mouth in a tight line. It was a man’s world. A woman had to be strong when dealing with a male, even one wearing the iron collar of a thrall, lest he run roughshod over her.
“Have you any skills besides wenching and drinking?”
“I’m a fighter by trade.” His mouth turned up in a lazy, sensual smile. “Obviously drinking isn’t one of my strengths. At least, not when someone taints the mead. But don’t discount wenching. I know how to please a woman. My bed skills are yours for the asking.”
Her cheeks flushed with irritation that he’d divined the direction of her thoughts. Why shouldn’t a widow enjoy a bed slave so long as she kept herself from bearing?
She gave herself a slight shake. This new thrall was nothing but the son of Ulf. She had to keep thinking of him as such.
“I accepted you as my thrall to exact revenge for my husband’s death,” she snapped. She’d sworn to avenge Osvald and this was her first chance to make good on her vow. She’d humble him so abjectly his name would become a byword throughout the North, a warning to all men who fell into the hands of a vengeful woman. “Keep your lewd suggestions to yourself.”
Brandr Ulfson eyed her with boldness so she felt obliged to return the favor. Usually, a bald head made her look away. Only freemen let their hair and beards grow long. But by shearing Brandr’s locks, her brothers had accentuated his strong, even features. A man had to be breathtakingly handsome to still be so appealing after he’d endured the shame of being shorn.
She knelt beside him and stretched out her hand to run a palm over his head, down his neck, and around his firm jawline. In a few days, he’d be prickly with new hair growth—fine blond hair judging from the pale curls licking his brown nipples—but for now, the bare skin on his head and face was begging to be touched.
She straightened her spine.
“Letting you demonstrate your bed skills doesn’t sound like revenge,” she said. “It sounds like you’re trying to trick me into pleasuring a thrall.”
“If we shared a bed, it would be about your pleasure.” His amber eyes darkened to sable. “Not mine.”
“So bedding me wouldn’t please you?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m sure it would please me. Very much. But my aim would be your delight.”
Her breath caught and she couldn’t move. He gave her a thorough look, starting with her mouth, lingering at her breasts, which tingled under his direct gaze, and traveling down her loins and limbs.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Katla. And you’ve missed a man’s touch.”
“I haven’t missed yours,” she snapped. “And you will address me as ‘mistress’ or ‘my lady.’ You may not use my name, thrall.”
She turned and rummaged through her clothes trunk for the oldest, coarsest tunic she could find. She hoped it would be big enough to fit him, but for now, she’d be satisfied with draping the undyed fabric across his groin.
“Varangians are supposed to value honor above all,” she said. “Before I loose your bonds, will you swear upon your honor to obey me and not to run away?”
“I won’t run. Your brothers took me by guile and womanish potions, but th
ey took me. As long as your commands do not conflict with my honor, I so swear to obey you,” he said. “May Thor strike me blind if I do not.”
“If the god doesn’t, I will,” she promised as she cut the bindings on his wrists.
He worked the knot at his ankles as soon as his hands were free. Then he stood to pull the rough tunic over his head.
Katla took a step back from him. The tunic was snug across his broad chest and struck him mid-thigh, leaving his well-muscled legs exposed. At least his disturbing maleness was covered.
“Now what, princess?” He managed to make the title he gifted her with sound like a curse.
She had to show this man his place and quickly. “I saved you from the gelding knife this night. You will show your appreciation by kissing my foot.”
She lifted her nightshift to ankle height and presented one to him, toes pointed.
That should wipe the smug expression from his face.
He shrugged, bent over and grabbed her ankle. Then he yanked her upside down. Her bottom took a glancing blow on the floor before she found herself hanging precariously, her foot level with his mouth when he stood back upright.
It happened so quickly, surprise forced all the air from Katla’s lungs. Her nightshift billowed down to bunch at her armpits, exposing her to him. When she tried to kick free, he grasped her other ankle as well. Her fingertips splayed on the slate floor to steady herself.
She clamped her lips shut to keep from crying out. There were a dozen strong men snoring on the other side of the door. They’d all rush to her aid, but she’d die before she let anyone catch her in this undignified position.
He planted a wet kiss on her instep and then lowered her to the floor. She managed not to land on her head; her right shoulder took most of her weight before she rolled to lie flat on her back on the cold slate.
He glared down at her and bared his teeth in a wolf’s smile. “Want me to kiss anything else, princess?”
Coming July 2012
True Highland Spirit
by Amanda Forester
Seduction is a powerful weapon...
Morrigan McNab is a Highland lady, robbed of her birthright and with no choice but to fight alongside her brothers to protect their impoverished clan. When she encounters Sir Jacques Dragonet, she discovers her fiercest opponent…
Sir Jacques Dragonet is a Noble Knight of the Hospitaller Order, willing to give his life to defend Scotland from the English. He can’t stop himself from admiring the beautiful Highland lass who wields her weapons as well as he can and endangers his heart even more than his life…
Now they’re racing each other to find a priceless relic. No matter who wins this heated rivalry, both will lose unless they can find a way to share the spoils.
“A masterful storyteller, Amanda Forester brings new excitement to Scottish medieval romance!”—Gerri Russell, award-winning author of To Tempt a Knight
For more Amanda Forester, visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
The Highlander’s Prize
by Mary Wine
Clarrisa of York has never needed a miracle more. Sent to Scotland’s king to be his mistress, her deliverance arrives in the form of being kidnapped by a brusque Highland laird who’s a bit too rough to be considered divine intervention. Except his rugged handsomeness and undeniable magnetism surely are magnificent…
Laird Broen MacNichols has accepted the challenge of capturing Clarrisa to make sure the king doesn’t get the heir he needs in order to hold on to the throne. Broen knows more about royalty than he ever cared to, but Clarrisa, beautiful and intelligent, turns out to be much more of a challenge than he bargained for…
With rival lairds determined to steal her from him and royal henchmen searching for Clarrisa all over the Highlands, Broen is going to have to prove to this independent-minded lady that a Highlander always claims his prize…
“[The characters] fight just as passionately as they love while intrigue abounds and readers turn the pages faster and faster!”—RT Book Reviews, 4 stars
For more Mary Wine, visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
Heart of the Highland Wolf
by Terry Spear
It’s a matter of pride… And a matter of pleasure…
Julia Wildthorn is sneaking into Argent Castle to steal an ancient relic, but reluctant laird Ian MacNeill may be the key to unlocking the one answer she really wants discovered…
From brilliant storyteller Terry Spear, modern day werewolves meet the rugged Highlands of Scotland, where instinct meets tradition and clan loyalties give a whole new meaning to danger…
Experience for yourself the sensual, action-packed, critically acclaimed worlds of Terry Spear, author of a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year:
“Crackles with mystery, adventure, violence, and passion.”—Library Journal
“A thrilling, engaging, wonderful ride.”—Seriously Reviewed
For more Terry Spears visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
Irish Lady
by Jeanette Baker
A successful attorney in a posh London neighborhood, Meghann McCarthy thought she’d escaped the slums of Belfast forever. Until Michael Devlin needs her help. Years before, her love for the Irish charmer had nearly torn her apart, but now he’s part of a past she never wants to revisit. However, she can’t leave him defenseless against a murder charge—even if uncovering the truth puts her life in danger too.
She’ll risk everything to save Michael—and she’s not the first of her family to put it all on the line for a man she loves. As Meghann delves further into Michael’s case, further into the history that binds them so irrevocably, she slips into the unfolding drama of centuries before…of another woman’s desperate fight to free her rebel husband from the clutches of Queen Elizabeth.
Stakes are high, but the reward is the love of a lifetime. And the Irish never give up.
“Wonderful...It grips from the first page to the last.”—Diana Gabaldon, author of the Outlander series
For more Jeanette Baker, visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
The Lure of Song and Magic
by Patricia Rice
Her voice was a curse…
When Dylan “Oz” Oswin’s son is kidnapped, the high-powered producer will do anything to get him back. Desperately following an anonymous tip, he seeks help from a former child singing sensation called Syrene, only to find she’s vowed never to sing again. Immune to her voice but not her charm, Oz is convinced she holds the key to his son’s disappearance—and he’ll stop at nothing to make her break her vow.
Only he can make her sing…
She knows the devastation her talent can bring. There’s more than a child’s life at stake, but Syrene cannot unleash her dangerous siren’s voice upon the world, even for a man who is impossible to deny…
“So much attention to detail the characters truly seem to come to life… [An] enchanting concoction of magic, suspense, and an unlikely love.”—Booklist starred review
For more Patricia Rice, visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
About the Authors
Connie Mason, who started her romance-writing career after she became a grandmother, once told 48 Hours that she does her best work in bed—that work being writing, of course! For her newest releases, Connie has teamed up with Mia Marlowe, a rising star of steamy historical romance. Mia learned about storytelling while singing professional opera. A classically trained soprano, she knows what it’s like to wear a corset and has had to sing high Cs in one, so she empathizes with the trials of her historical heroines.
Connie lives near Tampa, Florida, and Mia lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Credit for putting these two authors together goes to their editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, and their a
gent, Natasha Kern, who saw the creative potential in this pairing. Both Connie and Mia write sexy, adventurous stories with alpha heroes to love. They hope you’ll enjoy the melding of their styles as much as they enjoyed collaborating to bring their new stories to life.
For more info, please visit www.conniemason.com and www.miamarlowe.com!