Ravished by a Highlander (39 page)

As if to prove his statement true, a movement beyond the statue caught Isobel’s attention. She looked in time to spy a glimpse
of sapphire blue skirts and flaxen curls rushing back toward the palace.

“My guess,” Isobel muttered, peering around his back to watch the lady’s departure, “is that yer sister is likely correct.”

“She most certainly is,” he agreed, not bothering to look behind him. The cadence of his voice deepened with his smile. “But
I’m no’ completely irredeemable.”

Rather than argue the point with such an obvious rogue when she should be thinking of a way to convince Alex to leave with
her and Cam, Isobel quirked a dubious brow at him and turned to leave. “As difficult as that is to believe, I will have to
take ye at yer word. Good day.”

Her breath quickened an instant later when the stranger appeared at her side and leaned down toward her ear.

“Or ye could spend the afternoon with me and find oot fer yerself.”

His nearness permeated the air around her with heat and the familiar scent of heather. He was definitely a Highlander, mayhap
a Gordon or of the Donaldson clan, though he wore no plaid. She thought to ask his name, but decided against it. He might
consider her interest in him an acceptance of his offer. She could not afford to allow her senses to be addled by a whole
afternoon spent with him when her family’s safety was at stake.

“Thank ye, m’lord, but I’ve matters to think on.” She quickened her pace but he would not be so easily dismissed.

“Do these matters have to do with the witless brother ye were prayin’ fer?”

“Why?” Isobel asked, trying to sound unaffected by his boldness to follow her. “Are ye worried he might have usurped yer title?”

She was completely unprepared for his laughter, or for the way it rang through her veins, coarse and carefree. A dozen other
men would have scowled at her accusation, though she meant it only to show her disinterest, but this charismatic stranger
found it humorous. She liked that he had enough confidence to laugh, even at himself.

“His name is Alex,” she conceded with a smile and began to walk with him. “And truly, if there is a title of witless brother,
he has already taken it.” She felt a tad bit guilty about speaking so of her brother with a man she didn’t even know, but
perhaps not knowing him made it easier. She needed someone to talk to about her dilemma. Someone to just listen and perhaps
point her on the right path to take in order to get her brothers the hell out of Whitehall the quickest way possible. This
man seemed clever enough. Besides, he made her smile, and she hadn’t done the like all morning.

Beside her, he bent to pick up a rock and threw it into a small pond a few feet ahead of them. “And what has Alex done that
is so terrible?”

“He refuses to leave Whitehall and go home.”

“Ah, unfergivable.”

Isobel cut him a sidelong glance and found him smiling back at her. “Ye don’t understand.”

He raised a dark brow and waited for her to continue.

She looked around before she spoke again. “Our most hated enemies have recently arrived to pay homage to the king. Alex is
cocky and prideful. If we remain here, he is likely to insult them and bring the barbarians down on our heads once again.”

He nodded, leading her around the pool. “Now I see yer point more clearly. But why is it yer strait to ponder?” he asked,
turning to her. “Where is yer faither that his son should make decisions which put his kin in jeopardy?”

“He’s dead,” Isobel told him, her eyes going hard on the Palace doors and the beasts that strolled somewhere within. “Killed
by these same enemies. I swear if I could get just one of them alone, I would slice open his throat and sing him back to the
devil who spawned him.”

She was a bit surprised to find both sympathy and amusement softening the man’s features when she looked at him.

“It sounds to me like yer enemies have more to fear from ye, than ye do from them, lass.”

Isobel shook her head. “I am not foolhardy like Alex. I know that killing one of them would rekindle the feud. It has been
ten years since they murdered my father. They have left us alone, and I wish it to stay that way.”

“Wise,” he said, and Isobel was glad she’d told him. He agreed that she was correct in wanting to leave. Perhaps he would
be willing to talk some sense into Alex’s ear.

“Alex thinks he is not afraid of them, but Oliver Cromwell himself shyt in his breeches at the mention of their name.”

The handsome stranger paused in his steps for a moment, his smile fading as if something unpleasant had just crossed his thoughts.
“Who are these unholy miscreants ye speak of?”

“The MacGregors,” Isobel told him quietly, hating to even have to utter their names. “Do ye know them, then?” she asked when
his eyes narrowed slightly on her.

As effortlessly as it had appeared the first time, his light smile returned. “I know of them.”

“Aye,” she sighed, looking forward along their path, “everyone does. They are the infamous and imperishable scourges of Scotland.”

He did not laugh this time, but seemed to grow uncomfortable in his own clothes. Isobel guessed that he was afraid of the
MacGregors too.

“Ye didna’ tell me why they killed yer father.”

Isobel didn’t want to talk about it, or even think on it anymore, but if she could persuade this kind gentleman to dissuade
her brother… “They believed my father killed the Earl of Argyll during a raid. The Earl was their kin, the Devil MacGregor’s
brother-in-law, I was told. Without proof that the Fergussons were even responsible, they murdered my father. The MacGregors
are ruthless and cruel. If the Earl was anything like his relatives, he deserved his death.”

She stopped walking when she realized her stranger had stopped a few paces behind her. She turned and for an instant, wasn’t
certain if he was the same man. He stared at her, but not like before. Now, she thought she saw anger slash across the deep
amber of his eyes. All traces of anything charming had vanished from his face, leaving his jaw hard, his shapely mouth taut.

“Is something the matter?” Isobel asked him, not knowing what it could possibly be.

“Nae, ’tis nothin’. I just recalled that I promised my sister I would show her the king’s theater and she’ll never let me
ferget it if I dinna’ keep my word.” His smile flashed and was gone an instant before he was.

Isobel stood in the garden a bit taken back by the abruptness of his departure. But as she watched him disappear into the
Palace, she thought it rather thoughtful of him to care so much about keeping his word to his sister. She smiled. He wasn’t
anywhere near gaining the title.

Where authors give you the inside scoop!

From the desk of Paula Quinn

Dear Reader,

While doing research for LAIRD OF THE MIST, I fell in love with Clan MacGregor. Their staunch resolve to overcome trials and
countless tribulations during a three-hundred-year proscription earned them a very special place in my heart. So when I was
given the chance to write a brand-new series featuring Callum and Kate MacGregor’s grown children, I was ecstatic.

The first of my new four-book series, RAVISHED BY A HIGHLANDER (available now), stars Robert MacGregor, whom you met briefly
in A HIGHLANDER NEVER SURRENDERS. He was a babe then, and things haven’t changed. He’s still a babe, but in an entirely different
way!

My favorite type of hero is a rogue who can sweep a lady off her feet with a slant of his lips. Or a cool, unsmiling brute
with a soft spot no one sees but his woman. Rob was neither of those men when I began writing his story. He was more. I didn’t
think I could love a character I created as much as I loved his father, but I was wrong, and I’m not ashamed to say it.

Rob isn’t careless with women’s hearts. His smile isn’t reckless but a bit awkward. It’s about the only thing he
hasn’t
practiced every day of his life. Born to fill his father’s boots as chief and protector of his clan, Rob takes life and the
duties that come with his birthright seriously. He’s uncompromising in his loyalty to his kin and unrelenting in his beliefs.
He’s a warrior who is confident in the skill of his arm, but not rash in drawing his sword. However, once it’s out, someone’s
head is going to roll. Yes, he’s tall and handsome, with dark curls and eyes the color of sunset against a summer-blue loch,
but his beauty can best be seen in his devotion to those he loves.

He is… exactly what a lady needs in her life if an entire Dutch fleet is on her tail.

I’ll tell you a little about Davina Montgomery, the lass who not only softens Rob’s staunch heart, but comes to claim it in
her delicate fingers. But I won’t tell you too much, because I don’t want to reveal the secret that has taken everyone she’s
ever loved away from her. She came to me filled with sorrow, chained by duty, and in need of things so very basic, yet always
beyond her reach: safety, and the love of someone who would never betray her or abandon her to danger.

I saw Rob through Davina’s eyes the moment he plucked her from the flames of her burning abbey. A hero: capable, courageous,
and hot as hell.

We both knew Rob was perfect for her, and for the first time, I saw hope in Davina’s eyes—and her beauty can best be seen
when she looks at him.

Travel back to the Scottish Highlands with Rob and Davina and discover what happens when duty and desire collide. And I love
to hear from readers, so please visit me at
www.paulaquinn.com
.

Enjoy!

From the desk of R. C. Ryan

Dear Reader,

Are you as intrigued by family dynamics as I am? I know that, having written a number of family sagas, I’ve been forced to
confront a lot of family drama. But fiction mirrors real life. And in the real world, there’s nothing more complicated or
more dramatic than our individual relationships with the different members of our families.

We read a lot about mother–daughter and father–son relationships, not to mention sibling rivalry. Psychologists tell us life
paths are often determined by birth order. And yet there are always exceptions to the rule—the child of poverty who builds
a financial empire. The man with a learning disability who lifts himself to the ranks of genius. The girl who loses a leg
and goes on to run marathons.

And so, while I’m fascinated with family dynamics, and our so-called place in the universe, I’m even more intrigued by those
who refuse to fit into any mold. Instead, by the sheer force of their determination, they rise above society’s rules to become
something rare and wonderful. Whether they climb Mount Everest or never leave the neighborhood where they were born, they
live each day to the fullest. And whether they change the world or just change one life, they defy the experts and prove wrong
those who believe a life’s course is predetermined.

In MONTANA DESTINY, the second book in my Fool’s Gold series, Wyatt McCord returns to the Lost Nugget Ranch after years of
living life on the edge, only to lose his heart to the fiercely independent Marilee Trainor, a loner who has broken a few
rules of her own. These two, who searched the world over for a place to belong, will laugh, love, and fight often, while being
forced to dig deep within themselves to survive.