The Taming of a Scottish Princess

  An ineffable sadness engulfed her at the sight, sinking into her soul, and she could taste the bitterness of the tears that shone on her face.

  Jane wanted to drop the amulet, to throw it away, but Michael’s warm hand closed over hers and held it in place. “Look into the amulet, Jane. Keep looking.”

  Though it pained her like a hot coal pressed to bare skin, she fixed her gaze on the amulet. To the image of herself, heartbroken and weeping, walking away, leaving forever. Just as she reached the further reaches of the amulet, Michael appeared. Tall and broad shouldered, he ran after her.

  Jane gasped and peered closer, watching as he caught up to her, grasped her wrist, and pulled her to him—

  She blinked, realizing that she was no longer looking into the amulet, but into Michael’s eyes.

  He smiled. “See?” He took the amulet, placed it back in the box, and shut the lid. “Satisfied?”

  She nodded mutely, realizing her cheeks were wet with tears. “Did you feel that when you saw me leave in the amber?”

  He nodded. “I’ll never let you leave like that. Ever.”

  Her heart lightened. “You came after me.”

  “Of course I did,” he said, as if he already knew that.

  She thought she detected a hint of relief in his voice. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  She sighed. “Hurst, you haven’t asked me to marry you yet. You just told me.”

  “That’s because the marriage is a mere formality. So long as you are mine and no one else’s, then you may pick your title—wife, concubine, sultana, queen, partner of my ventures, even dancer, though your talents in that area are—”

  She placed a finger over his mouth. “Don’t.”

  He chuckled, caught her hand, and pressed a kiss in the palm. “Jane, you’ve but to say what you want, and I will make it so.”

  “And if I want to be all of those things?”

  He drew her close, his gaze the most serious she’d ever seen it. “There’s only one woman who could handle all of those. And that, my love, is you.”

  Tears made her blink and she threw her arms about his neck. “Then I’ll take them all, Hurst. Every last one. And while I’m at it, I’ll take you, too.”

  “All of me?”

  She grinned and rolled to one side, pulling him with her. “Oh, yes. All of you. Because all of you, my love, is your very best part.”

  EPILOGUE

  A line of coaches pulled up to the wharf where ships bobbed dockside. The wind tried to tear at the rolled-up sails and had to settle for moaning through the riggings and slapping the flags against the masts. White-capped waves raced below the white cliffs of Dover and tried to yank the ships free of their bonds.

  Michael climbed out of the coach and looked at the largest ship. “Right on time.”

  “What is?” Jane asked, sticking her head out the coach door.

  He held out a hand to assist her in alighting. “My brother, William. He and his wife, Marcail, are to sail with us as far as France. From there, another ship will take us to Egypt.”

  Ammon came forward, quietly speaking with Turner about the horses, and then ordering the footmen to remove certain bags from the coaches. He bowed to Michael. “I shall see to the loading of our supplies.”

  “Good man. I believe Jane is making a list of what we’ll need to purchase once we reach Egypt. You might want to add to it before we arrive.”

  “Very good, sir.” Ammon bowed to Jane, who stood beside Michael with one hand upon her bonnet to keep the wind from stealing it away.

  She watched Ammon move aside to count the trunks being piled beside the coaches. “He seems to like his new position.”

  “Very much. I hope he doesn’t frighten Marcail.”

  “From what I’ve read of your sister-in-law, it will take more than a massive Egyptian to frighten her. I do wish you’d told me she was going to be with us, though. I would have dressed in something a bit more presentable.”

  “I didn’t know it until last night, when I received Mary’s letter.”

  Michael put his arm about Jane and walked with her toward the ship. “Apparently Father and Mother are in Greece and plan on staying there for the next four months. And Mary and her husband are on their way to Portland for some auction, accompanied by my brother Robert, the antiquarian, who is now purchasing objects for the British Museum’s collection.”

  “I hope the museum appreciated your donation.”

  “They’ll take good care of the amulet. It will never go missing again. As Robert says, it is the perfect place for our family heirloom.”

  Jane nodded her approval. “Your brother Robert is a very intelligent man.”

  “So he likes to tell his lovely wife, Moira.” Michael scanned the ship and saw William in conversation with a sailor-looking type. “Let me see, what else was in that letter? Oh, yes. My sister Caitlyn and her ever-increasing brood of children are accompanying her husband to Italy, and they hope we’ll visit them at the villa they’ve let for the summer.”

  “How lovely.” Jane looked impressed. “That was all in one letter?”

  “Yes. And Mary wonders why I don’t always read every word. It was pages and pages long. I fell asleep twice before I finished it.”

  Jane chuckled. “When did you receive this letter?”

  “One of the footmen delivered it to our suite.”

  “I never heard him.”

  “You were asleep. Weary from our rather tiring, er, activities.”

  She blushed and Michael gave her a wolfish grin. “We are newly married. It’s only right to celebrate that fully.”

  Jane’s shy smile made him feel ten feet tall. “Did Mary tell you anything else?”

  “Yes. You, my dear, are to become an aunt twice over come May.”

  “Mary’s with child?”

  “No, my sister Triona is.”

  “How lovely! But . . . you said ‘twice over’?”

  “Yes, Triona is having twins.”

  Jane’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “Twins?”

  He shrugged. “Triona and Caitlyn are twins. There are a lot of them in my family, you know.”

  Jane blinked. “No, I didn’t know. Twins. I can’t imagine.”

  “Neither can I.” He paused at the foot of the gangplank and pulled her close, tugging her cloak tighter about her neck. “But then, I also never imagined I’d end up married to a sharp-witted harridan who holds my heart in the palm of her hand.”

  “Harridan?” Jane smiled and leaned toward him. “Rude curmudgeon.”

  “Silly gapeseed.”

  “Foolish jackanapes.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed the wedding ring on her slender finger. “Bossy wife.”

  Her lips parted in a sweet smile. “Yes, I am. And don’t forget it.” She twinkled up at him and then, just as he decided she needed another kiss, she turned and lifted a hand in greeting to his brother William, who stood at the head of the gangplank, grinning down at them.

  Reluctantly, Michael loosened his hold on Jane and watched her go to meet his brother, charming him within moments. Michael grinned; he knew just how that felt.

  Before he joined them he turned his face into the wind, tasting the excitement that always came at the start of a new adventure. With Jane, there would be more moments for kisses, discoveries, and smiles, and much more, too.

  He’d make sure of it.

  Smiling, he followed Jane up the gangplank and into their next great adventure.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek

  at the first delightful novel

  in New York Times bestselling author

  Karen Hawkins’s

  new Duchess Diaries series

  Coming soon from Pocket Books

  There you are.”

  Rose stiffened at the sound of the low, masculine voice. She knew that voice—far better than she wanted to.

  She swallowed hard as she slipped her arm through a rung of the libra
ry ladder and slowly turned toward the man she never thought she’d see again.

  Lord Alton Sinclair, known to the ton as Lord Sin, stood in the doorway. His broad shoulders were outlined in stark relief by his perfectly fitting dark blue coat, his legs encased in tan breeches tucked into black Hessian boots that had been shined to a mirrorlike polish.

  It had been four years, two months, and three days since she’d last seen him, and the fact that she knew that down to the day made her face heat. His dark blond hair was longer now and his expression more marred by dissipation. Only his sherry-brown eyes looked exactly as they had when she’d last seen him—blazing with anger.

  Rose forced her lips into a stiff smile. “Lord Sinclair, how . . . pleasant to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  His smile was that of a cat who had cornered a mouse. “Of course I’m here. My aunt invited you at my express request.”

  Rose eyed him warily; she was glad she was up here, away from the simmering storm of a man who was crossing the room toward her. She tried for a casual tone. “I hope you’re well. It’s been a very long time since we last met.”

  “Four years. Four very trying years.”

  His smoldering anger was so clear, she had to fight an overwhelming urge to climb farther up the ladder. “I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had a difficult time.”

  “You had to know it wasn’t easy.”

  Her brows knit in puzzlement. “I should have? Why?”

  His mouth was a hard, straight line, his eyes blazing hot. “Don’t play the innocent with me. I know you.”

  Good heavens, what is this all about? Though they’d hadn’t parted on good terms, she’d caused herself a good deal of embarrassment, but not him.

  He was immune to scandal. Despite his reputation, he was welcome in all the best homes and ballrooms. Handsome, wealthy bachelors were in high demand, and much could be forgiven the one who was the handsomest and wealthiest of all.

  He now stood at the foot of the ladder, one large hand resting on a rung by her foot, and her heart sped up uncomfortably. What did he intend to—

  He stepped onto the lowest rung, his expression stern and unyielding as he blocked her exit. “You made me the laughingstock of London.” Anger crackled through his voice.

  As he began to climb toward her, Rose’s breath shortened. “How so? I behaved inappropriately, but you did nothing to earn censure. I’ve often wished I could take back my actions that night, and—”

  “You humiliated me in front of the biggest gossips of the ton, and then you fled. You should have stayed to make a public statement to clear the air instead of leaving town like a coward, never to be seen again, which damned me all the more.”

  She blinked. “But I left because I didn’t wish to cause you any more trouble. I thought that was the best way.”

  “It was the worst way.” He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her knees, and she felt like a butterfly pinned in a display box. “People gossiped about what they’d seen, and made up what they hadn’t. Within a fortnight the story went from my attempting to kiss you to a full-blown attempted seduction. A forceful one, too.”

  Rose was shocked. “But that’s not what happened!”

  “Oh, it gets worse. Supposedly your gown was torn, the pins pulled from your hair, one of your shoes lost when you’d tried to flee. After that, no gentleman dared leave his precious daughter alone with me, a man so depraved that he attacked an innocent.”

  Rose pressed a trembling hand to her lips. “But not a single word of that is true! I wasn’t harmed at all!”

  He eyed her coldly. “Which you could have told everyone, had you not fled and left me to deal with the vicious rumors.”

  Guilt settled into her stomach like a lead weight. “Oh, dear. I had no idea that people would make up such lies. My aunt was insistent that I leave town until the talk died down, and my only intent was to minimize the damage I’d—”

  He climbed to the next rung, his chest now against her thighs.

  A wild tingle raced through her, as intoxicating as champagne. Oh, no—this was exactly the feeling that had gotten her into trouble four years ago.

  “I hold your aunt responsible as well as you. If she’d had you on a much-needed leash, nothing would have happened to begin with.”

  Rose’s temper flared. “While I understand your desire to blame others for that unfortunate night, allow me to point out that your reputation was hardly unsullied to begin with. Don’t pin your or my weaknesses on my aunt.”

  “Before you came along, people merely spoke of me as a rakehell. No one thought me a seducer of innocents until you made me appear so.”

  Rose’s eyes narrowed. “I realize now that I should have stayed in town to help weather the scandal storm that brewed afterward. And I’ve already apologized sincerely. There’s nothing more to be done about it.”

  His brown eyes snapped fire. “So little, so late.” He climbed another rung, his broad chest brushing her hips in an alarmingly intimate way.

  Rose’s traitorous body tingled again, and she took a nervous step up the ladder, but Sin followed.

  “The world thinks that I attempted to deflower you, my little Rose-of-many-thorns. But that’s not what happened, is it? I wasn’t the seducer in that little scene, was I?” Sin’s arms were now on either side of her shoulders, his chest nearly pressed to hers. “Admit it, Miss Balfour. I didn’t pursue you at all. You pursued me.”

  She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. He was right. She’d been fascinated with Sin from the moment he’d walked into her aunt’s ballroom, looking as dark, dangerous, and handsome as a villain in a novel. Despite Aunt Fiona’s dire warnings, she’d instantly been smitten.

  From that moment on, she did whatever she could to attach herself to him at every event they attended. To give him credit, he’d studiously avoided her, making her even more determined to gain his attention. After weeks of being shunned, she’d tricked Sin into accompanying her into the garden at Lady MacAllister’s ball by pretending to feel faint. The second they were alone, she’d brazenly thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  A maelstrom of physical responses had roared through her when her lips met his, shocking and frightening her. Panicked, she’d put her hands on his chest and shoved him away.

  The force of her push had sent Sin stumbling backward, and he’d tripped over the edge of a fountain and fallen in. Appalled, she’d screamed for help, bringing others running.

  Now Rose could see how it all must have looked. And clearly the other guests had quickly made their own deductions on finding Edinburgh’s most notorious rakehell in a fountain, and one of the year’s newest debutante’s shaken and red-faced.

  The memories were suddenly as fresh as if they’d happened only yesterday. Rose gazed into Sin’s eyes, their streaks of gold giving him a faintly lionlike appearance. “Lord Sinclair, I’m so very sorry that people shunned you.”

  He scowled. “It was even worse than that—I was mocked as well.”

  She looked at him, confused.

  “Since the fountain incident, I am now called Lord Fin.”

  Rose blinked. Then, from deep inside her, a giggle arose.

  Lord Fin glared all the more, which made her laugh even harder. She just couldn’t help it.

  “Miss Balfour,” Sin snapped between clenched teeth, “if you do not stop laughing this instant, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

  His blazing eyes told her that he meant it, which sobered her laughter. She pressed a hand to her lips and took a deep breath. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I had no idea . . .” Another giggle snuck out.

  Sin couldn’t believe she had the audacity to stand there and laugh in his face. “Beware who you laugh at, Miss Balfour. It can come back to haunt you.”

  But rather than looking intimidated, she just looked irritated. “Oh, please, stop being so dramatic.”

  “You nearly ruined me!”

  “Not on purp
ose.”

  “I’m not so sure of that. You were angry that I didn’t respond to your juvenile attempts to seduce me,” he charged.

  “For the love of—” She cast her eyes heavenward. “I was only sixteen, much too inexperienced for such stratagems.”

  He continued to glower at her.

  “Fine!” She threw up a hand in resignation. “If you aren’t going to believe me, then yes, I did it on purpose. I deliberately embarrassed you because you fully deserved it.” She lifted a brow. “Are you happy now?”

  He should have been, but she’d robbed him of that satisfaction by taking such an attitude. He narrowed his gaze on her. “You’re being deliberately difficult.”

  “I’m being difficult—of all the nerve! I even admitted to something I didn’t do just to make you happy! Are you going to hold me accountable for every little thing that’s happened since that night? Perhaps you’d also like to blame me for your notorious temper, though you had that long before I met you. Or perhaps you have an allergy to shellfish that you’d like to blame on me? Or a tendency to snore? I’m sure that is my fault, too.”

  Sin ground his teeth. “You are pushing me, which is most unwise.”

  “I’m not pushing you; I’m arguing with you. But perhaps you prefer biddable women.” She folded her hands demurely, saying in a high voice, “Yes, Lord Sinclair. Whatever you say, Lord Sinclair.” She tittered in a way that made his teeth ache. “Oh, Lord Sinclair, you’re so funny! I vow, you’re the smartest peer in—”

  “Stop that. I had a purpose in bringing you to my aunt’s house, Miss Balfour. A very specific one.”

  A look of wariness finally entered her blue eyes. “What purpose is that?”

  He smiled then, his body holding hers captive against the ladder, his lips so close to her rosy ones. “If I’m to be condemned for seducing you, then I should be granted all the pleasures of that seduction—not just the pains.”

  She blinked, realization slowly settling in her eyes. “The . . . the pleasures? What do you mean?”

  He chuckled with satisfaction. “I mean exactly what you think I mean. This time there will be a real seduction. And it will involve far more than a kiss.”