She looked up into his face. “Will we have arguments?”
“Aye, I’m an argumentative man. Best you accept that from the start.”
She cocked her head. “It takes two to argue, and I do not like it.”
“Nay, lass, but you’ll learn. I have already detected a grievous potential.”
“Have you, indeed, sir?”
“Aye.” He grinned at her. “I won’t let you run away from it, either. You’ll have to stay and fight.”
“Do you really want me to stay?”
In answer, he put one hand under her chin, tilting her head up. Then he kissed her on the lips. He was gentle at first, then demanding, and her body leapt in response. When his hand moved from her chin to her breast, stroking lightly, she melted against him with a little moan of pleasure.
A moment later, still kissing her, he scooped her up into his arms. Only when she realized where he was headed did she protest.
“What are you doing?”
“Claiming my rights as your husband,” he said gently. “If you’re going to object, you’d best do so quickly, so we can argue about it first if we must.”
“You sound as if you are certain that you will win such an argument.”
“Will I not? Don’t forget that I am legally your husband. I have the law on my side, sweetheart.”
Overwhelmed by a wave of desire, she could not think clearly. Grasping at straws, she said, “But it’s suppertime!”
“The lads will get theirs and nobody else will miss us. I’m hungry for you, lassie. I’ve wanted to taste your treasures these several weeks past. I’ll not force you, but ’tis my right, and if you mean to stay, we have no reason to delay.”
“You need not persuade me,” Laurie said. “If you are certain that no one will disturb us, I have no objection.”
He needed no further encouragement, pausing only long enough to help her remove her clothing and to remove his own. Any shyness she felt vanished in the face of his visible approval of her body, and his caresses soon stirred a passion in her to match his own.
“Your skin is so soft that I want to kiss every inch of you,” he said moments later, suiting action to words.
She had thought that his caresses had already taken her into realms of passion as great as any woman could ever want to know, but she soon realized her error. Even her dream had not come close. She realized, too, that she could stimulate him, too, and she delighted in his sighs and groans of pleasure.
A sharp pounding on the door turned passion to consternation.
Hugh’s man, Thaddeus, shouted, “Master, be ye in there? We canna find the mistress, and Lady Marjory be sore afeard that summat ha’ become o’ her. Be ye sick, Sir Hugh?”
Lady Marjory’s anxious voice came next. “I knew you might catch a chill, my dear sir, out as late as you both were. Perhaps you will allow me to stir up a tisane as a preventative, before you fall ill from a catarrh or worse.”
Hugh threw off the covers and got out of bed.
Seeing him stride toward the door, Laurie snatched the covers back up to her chin, stifling an urge to cover her head as well.
Realizing that he had given no thought to his appearance and was reaching to open the door, she said between tears and laughter, “Hugh, you’re stark naked!”
Ignoring her, Hugh shot back the bolt and yanked open the door. “What the devil do you mean, pounding on my door like that?” he roared.
An eldritch shriek echoed through the stairway, followed by the sound of heels retreating rapidly down the stone steps.
Thaddeus said apologetically, “I expect I ought to have warned her ladyship that ye might answer the door wi’out thinking o’ your appearance, sir.”
Without bothering to reply, Hugh shut the door in his face and turned, his eyes twinkling with unholy glee. “That’ll teach her,” he said. “Now, where was I?”
When he found his place again, Laurie’s laughter turned to gasps of pleasure.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed
Border Storm.
Once again, inspiration for the story came partially from reading Border ballads and partially from my interest in my family’s genealogy. The plot is based on the following three ballads: “The False Sir John,” also called “The Elf King,” and “Isaac-a-Bell & Hugh the Graeme,” both in
The English & Scottish Popular Ballads,
edited by Francis James Child (New York, 1965), and
Lock the Door, Larriston
by James Hogg, 1797, from the version in
Scottish Border Battles & Ballads,
edited by Michael Bran-der (New York, 1976).
The wheel-lock pistol was common in the Borders as early as the first half of the sixteenth century. Interestingly, it is thought to have been invented by Leonardo da Vinci, the great Italian artist and engineer. The wheel-lock worked on the principle of a modern cigarette lighter. A wheel with a rough edge revolving very fast against a piece of stone created the spark to light the powder. Instead of flint, however, a softer stone, iron pyrites, was used. For more information on the wheel-lock and other weapons of this period, see
English Weapons and Warfare, 449-1660,
by A.V. B. Norman and Don Pottinger (London, 1966).
Sincerely,
About the Author
A fourth-generation Californian of Scottish descent, Amanda Scott is the author of more than fifty romantic novels, many of which appeared on the
USA Today
bestseller list. Her Scottish heritage and love of history (she received undergraduate and graduate degrees in history at Mills College and California State University, San Jose, respectively) inspired her to write historical fiction. Credited by
Library Journal
with starting the Scottish romance subgenre, Scott has also won acclaim for her sparkling Regency romances. She is the recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award (for
Lord Abberley’s Nemesis
, 1986) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. She lives in central California with her husband.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2000 by Lynne Scott-Drennan
cover design by Mimi Bark
978-1-4804-0692-6
This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
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