The Border Lord and the Lady

 

“Bertrice Small creates cover-to-cover passion, a keen sense of history, and suspense.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

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Library Journal

 

“Ms. Small delights and thrills.”

—
Rendezvous

 

“An insatiable delight for the senses. [Small’s] amazing historical detail . . . will captivate the reader . . . potent sensuality.”

—*Romance Junkies

 

“[Her novels] tell an intriguing story, they are rich in detail, and they are all so very hard to put down.”

—The Best Reviews

 

“Sweeps the ages with skill and finesse.”

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Affaire de Coeur

 

“[A] captivating blend of sensuality and rich historical drama.”

—Rosemary Rogers

 

“Steamy . . . a work of grand historical proportions . . . a must read!”

—
Romantic Times
(top pick)

 

“Brimming with colorful characters and rich in historical detail, Small’s boldly sensual love story is certain to please her many devoted readers.”

—
Booklist

BOOKS BY BERTRICE SMALL

THE BORDER CHRONICLES

 

THE FRIARSGATE INHERITANCE

 

CONTEMPORARY EROTICA

 

SKYE’S LEGACY

 

THE O’MALLEY SAGA

 

THE WORLD OF HETAR
Lara

 

MORE BY BERTRICE SMALL

New American Library
Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, October 2009

Copyright © Bertrice Small, 2009

All rights reserved

REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

Small, Bertrice.

The border lord and the lady/Bertrice Small. p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-101-14540-1

1. Marriages of royalty and nobility—Fiction. 2. Scotland—History—1057-1603—Fiction.

I. Title.

PS3569.M28B’.54—dc22 2009019623

Set in Goudy

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

 

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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For Kathryn and Kenneth Rubin, with love from Moi—Happy Anniversary!

“
I
will not raise his bastard, Papa,” Luciana Maria Pietro d’Angelo said in a hard voice. She was a pretty girl of seventeen, petite, with skin the hue of ivory, and long, thick hair the deep black of a starless night sky. The hair was carefully contained in a golden caul. Her face was a perfect oval, her nose straight but not too long, her mouth generous, and the brows above her chestnut brown eyes were delicately arched.

“Madonna, do not use such crude language,” her elderly female companion said nervously. “You are to be a contessa.”

“Nevertheless, I
will not
raise his bastard,” the young woman said, stamping her small leather-shod foot. The elegant fingers of one hand plucked irritably at the scarlet silk damask of her gown.

“Fiore mia,”
Master Pietro d’Angelo said soothingly, “as your dear mama is not here to instruct you in the behaviors a wife must accept, it is up to me to do so. As a wife you are required to do what your husband asks of you even when you find it distasteful. The Earl of Leighton honors you with his name and his title, Luciana.”

“The earl wishes nothing more than a rich wife to shore up his fortunes, and to give him a male heir,” the girl replied bluntly. “Do you take me for a fool, Papa, that I do not know why my hand in marriage has been sought by this man? There are many who would have me to wife,” she said boastfully.

“Not in Firenze,”
her father reminded her stingingly.

Luciana flushed, and the reddish purple staining her delicate skin was not a flattering color.

“I know there are others who would have had you here,
fiore mia,
” her father said, “but Robert Bowen, while poor, is of ancient lineage, and more important, he is an honorable man. He will respect you,
cara,
and treat you well. Do you think I would give you to just anyone? Soon I must return home. I want to know you are in safe hands.”

Safe away from Firenze,
the merchant thought to himself.
Then perhaps you will not end as your poor mama did.
His daughter was so like his late wife, and yet she wasn’t. Carolina had been beautiful and impetuous, but she had not their daughter’s intellect. Would that intelligence save his child? He prayed it would.

“I do not question your choice, Papa,” Luciana said in a softer tone. “But this Englishman needs my dower more than I need him. I can see he is a prudent man who will not squander the wealth I bring him.”

“And you will advise him to invest some of that coin so his wealth may grow, my clever daughter,” her father said.

“I will encourage him, Papa. He must not take risks that he shouldn’t, but you must assure him my advice is good though I be a female,” Luciana said, smiling.

“Ahhh.” Master Pietro d’Angelo sighed. “If only your brothers had your business acumen,
fiore mia
! What a merchant you should have made! And Firenze would be all the richer for it. Aye, I will tell your lord to listen and heed you in these matters.”
But how candid should I be with him about your mama’s fragile emotions?
he wondered silently to himself.

A servant entered the hall to announce the arrival of the Earl of Leighton.

“Bring him in at once!” Master Pietro d’Angelo said. “Do not keep His Lordship waiting, Paolo.” He turned to the two women. “Go with Donna Clara, Luciana. Leave the hall.
Presto! Presto!
”

“Remember, Papa, I will not raise his bastard,” the girl said as she departed.

But though Donna Clara urged her charge from the hall, Luciana had decided that she would not go. To her companion’s distress the girl secreted herself behind a carved screen at the back of the hall where she might both observe and listen.

“He is handsome enough,” she whispered to Donna Clara as Robert Bowen, the Earl of Leighton, entered, coming forward to greet her father with an elegant bow. “And neither too old nor too young. He can still father children on me.” Her brown eyes silently admired the earl’s lithe figure. The dark blue velvet fabric of his coat was showing wear, but Luciana was pleased to see the dragged sleeves were lined in a medium blue silk brocade. He obviously had style, but not the means to indulge it.