Amanda Scott (43 page)

“But I don’t see,” he protested. “Who is your father?”

Sidony grimaced. “Faith, here we are, walking along together like old acquaintances, and you do not even know my name. Nor do I know yours,” she added pointedly.

“Nay, then, you don’t,” he said. “I ken fine that you think you ought to know, and that the so-perfect gentle-man you mentioned earlier would introduce himself properly at once. But I’d as lief you not mention my name yet to your friends or family, and since I do not know if you can keep a still tongue in your head when you should, I think it may be better if you don’t know my name.”

“Very well,” she said, thinking that if he did not want to tell anyone his name, he would not want to meet Hugo or Rob, which would be just as well for her. “My father is Macleod of Glenelg, sir. My name is Sidony.”

“Lady Sidony, in fact,” he said with a look of amusement. “I think I am fortunate that your father is
not
in town.”

“I do not think he would berate you,” she said. “He would more likely be wroth with me for wandering into the woods.”

“Aye, but he might recognize me, lassie. Sithee, I, too, hail from Kintail.”

She clasped her hands to her bosom and looked at him with greater interest than ever. “From Kintail? Have you just come from there, then? Oh, tell me about it. Has the weather been fine? Are the wildflowers all in bloom? But surely, I must know your family, sir. There are not so many, after all, and we know most of them. I do know all of the Macleods. Are you a Mackenzie or a MacRae?”

“Nay, lass, you’ll not find out just yet. Tell me more about your family first. I ken fine who your father is, but I have been away more than I have been home these past ten years, and I know naught of your family. Where is your mother, and how is it that three of your sisters live here in Midlothian if you are all good Highland lasses? If I am not mistaken, it must be your sister, the lady Cristina, who married Hector Reaganach Maclean and lives at Lochbuie on the Isle of Mull.”

He was frowning again, this time thoughtfully.

She gathered her own thoughts, uncertain how much he would want to know. In her experience, when a man asked a question, he wanted a brief answer, without a lot of details. “My mother died when I was two, and Cristina is indeed married to Hector the Ferocious,” she said, answering the easiest questions first. Hesitantly, she added, “The rest makes rather a long story. You see, Adela was supposed to marry Lord Ardelve of Loch Alsh, but someone abducted her before she could and brought her here against her will. Sorcha and I set out to follow them, but then Sir Hugo came looking for us, and then Isobel met and married—”

“Sir Hugo?” His voice took on a new note, one that silenced her. On the one hand, it sounded as if he had half expected to hear Hugo’s name. On the other, it did not sound as if he were at all happy to hear it.

“Aye,” she said. “Sir Hugo Robison. He is my sister Sorcha’s husband.”

His lips twitched, his eyes took on an unholy twinkle, then he laughed and shook his head. “My sins have caught up with me,” he said when he could speak.

“How?”

“Because the last time I met Hugo Robison, he knocked me flat, and if he learns how we met, I warrant he’ll do it again.”

Demurely, she said, “Hugo is a gentleman, of course, like you. I wonder if he also kisses innocent serving wenches for amusement.”

“Sakes, lass, I hope you don’t mean to ask him!”

“But my sisters say that if one wants to know a thing, one should ask.”

He gave her a look that she was certain he thought would intimidate her.

She met it easily, feeling only tingling anticipation as she said, “Truly, you need not be afraid of Hugo, sir. Indeed, I cannot think why you need even meet him, because once we reach the abbey, I can easily go back the way I came, through the gardens. He need never even know that we’ve met.”

Amusement lit his eyes again. “I don’t doubt you’d prefer it that way. Indeed, I’m guessing he’ll be as displeased with you as he’ll be with me, will he not?”

With a sigh, she said, “Aye, he would be if we were foolish enough to go to him together. ’Tis precisely why you’d be wiser to let me go back alone.”

“But I cannot do that,” he said with a wry smile. “Sithee, lass, Hugo is the reason I am here. He sent for me. So come,” he added, offering her his arm. “Unpleasant things are best done straightaway. Moreover, your very presence may protect me.”

Wondering what was going to protect her, Sidony ignored his gallantly proffered arm and said dryly, “You had better collect your horse before we go. sir.”

THE DISH

Where authors give you the inside scoop!

From the desk of Amanda Scott

Dear Reader,

Secrets! Lady Adela Macleod, heroine of
Knight’s Treasure
(on sale now), hates them. Sir Robert (Rob) Logan, Scottish Knight Templar, has more than his share of them. But one of the most delightful challenges of writing a novel is creating obstacles for one’s characters to overcome. In the case of Lady Adela, who has long borne responsibilities beyond her years and proven herself strong, capable, and intelligent in managing her father’s large household and her younger sisters, the temptation to fling obstacle after obstacle in her path proved irresistible.

Abducted from the kirk steps by a ruthless villain before her first wedding (
Lady’s Choice
), Adela finally marries as
Knight’s Treasure
opens, only to watch her bridegroom collapse and die at their wedding feast.

Savvy readers, who recognized elements of Stockholm syndrome during Adela’s abduction, will doubtless note symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder as she comes to know Rob and, with his help, recovers from the shock of her abduction and her husband’s death. Needless to say, although no one had heard of either the syndrome or the disorder in fourteenth-century Scotland, people suffered from their effects long before anyone had identified or labeled them.

Adela has little time to coddle herself, however, because even more powerful villains than the ones in
Prince of Danger
and
Lady’s Choice
are after the Templar Treasure, and Rob’s family guards yet another great secret, the discovery of which could alter the succession to the Scottish crown.

My objective was to make
Knight’s Treasure
a fast-paced tale including mystery, murder, humor, and sensuous romance, and to cast a little light on two of Scotland’s most fascinating historical mysteries. I hope you enjoy it!

Sincerely yours,

http://home.att.net/~amandascott/

From the desk of Shannon K. Butcher

Hi. My name is Shannon and I’m a geek. It’s been sixty-seven days since I last took apart something that wasn’t broken just to see how it worked. I take it one day at a time.

As a teenager, I didn’t have posters of rock stars or the latest heartthrob on my walls, though I do admit to a giant crush on MacGyver. Instead, I had diagrams of satellites in geosynchronous orbits plastered all over my room. I was convinced that I would grow up and figure out a way to collect solar energy from orbit and use a satellite to beam it to earth in some usable form, solving the world’s energy crisis forever. Instead, I write romance novels, which is so close to my original life plan that it might as well be the same thing.

So naturally, when I started thinking of story ideas, the geeky parts of me had a lot of influence. As did my husband. He loves to watch The History Channel and I love hanging out with him, so I end up watching a lot of The History Channel too. One day, this show came on about the history of secret codes and the evolution of code breaking, and for the first time in a long time, I actually paid attention. A few days later, in that semi-coherent state between wishing I was asleep and actually being there, the idea for a different kind of code came to me. I figured that math is a universal language, so why not use advanced math as a basis? I had to do something useful with all those calculus and linear algebra classes.

I took that basic concept and asked myself what I’d do with the code. What if the CIA came across a bit of code that—if they could break it—would reveal the location of hidden nuclear weapons from the cold war era (another idea courtesy of The History Channel)? And what if they weren’t the only ones who knew about it? What if there was a terrorist group out there that knew what the good guys did? Now it was a race to crack the code. Enter our heroine, Noelle, who, as the only person left alive with that ability, has suddenly become a target. And she doesn’t even know it.

The bad guys are on their way to abduct her and now she needs a hero in a big way. I gave her David, who has the skills necessary to protect her, as well as some harsh life lessons that have taught him the painful price of failure. He’s a tortured man with a guilt-ridden past, because, come on, who doesn’t love that? And that’s how NO REGRETS (on sale now) was born.

The rest of the story was a lot harder to figure out, but I knew that, in the end, I wanted the geeky girl to get the stud, because it’s my story world and that’s the way I wanted relationship physics to work. Clearly, I am not overburdened by reality.

So that’s how the story began—with one geeky idea. Now, if you will please excuse me, I have a television remote to fix. I’m sure it’s broken because we’re still getting way too much History Channel around here.

www.shannonkbutcher.com