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Tempting The Laird
Julia London
‘Warm, witty and decidedly wicked—great entertainment.’ Stephanie Laurens on Hard-Hearted Highlander.Mystery and desire cloak the Scottish HighlandsUnruly. Unmarried. Unapologetic. Catriona Mackenzie’s reputation precedes her everywhere she goes. Her beloved late aunt Zelda taught Cat to live out loud and speak her mind, and that’s exactly what she does when Zelda’s legacy—a refuge for women in need—comes under fire. When her quest puts her in the path of the disturbingly mysterious Hamlin Graham, Duke of Montrose, Cat is soon caught up in the provocative rumours surrounding the dark duke.Never one to retreat, Cat boldly goes where no one else has dared for answers. Shrouded in secrets, a hostage of lies, Hamlin must endure the fear and suspicion of those who believe he is a murderer. The sudden disappearance of his wife and the truth he keeps silent are a risk to his chances at earning a coveted parliamentary seat. Bu he’s kept his affairs tightly held until a woman with sparkling eyes and brazen determination appears unexpectedly in his life. Deadly allegations might be his downfall, but his unleashed passion could be the duke’s ultimate undoingPraise for Julia London:‘Julia London writes vibrant, emotional stories and sexy, richly drawn characters.” New York Times bestselling author Madeline Hunter‘An absorbing read from a novelist at the top of her game.’ Kirkus Reviews, starred review, on Wild Wicked Scot‘Expert storytelling and believable characters make the romance readers will be sad to leave behind.’ Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Wild Wicked Scot
Mystery and desire cloak the Scottish Highlands
Unruly. Unmarried. Unapologetic. Catriona Mackenzie’s reputation precedes her everywhere she goes. Her beloved late aunt Zelda taught Cat to live out loud and speak her mind, and that’s exactly what she does when Zelda’s legacy—a refuge for women in need—comes under fire. When her quest puts her in the path of the disturbingly mysterious Hamlin Graham, Duke of Montrose, Cat is soon caught up in the provocative rumors surrounding the dark duke. Never one to retreat, Cat boldly goes where no one else has dared for answers.
Shrouded in secrets, a hostage of lies, Hamlin must endure the fear and suspicion of those who believe he is a murderer. The sudden disappearance of his wife and the truth he keeps silent are a risk to his chances at earning a coveted parliamentary seat. But he’s kept his affairs tightly held until a woman with sparkling eyes and brazen determination appears unexpectedly in his life. Deadly allegations might be his downfall, but his unleashed passion could be the duke’s ultimate undoing.
Also By Julia London (#u01228827-fbef-5a9b-adf8-3aafd8d665c0)
The Cabot Sisters
The Trouble with Honor
The Devil Takes a Bride
The Scoundrel and the Debutante
The Highland Grooms
Wild Wicked Scot
Sinful Scottish Laird
Hard-Hearted Highlander
Devil in Tartan
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Tempting the Laird
Julia London
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08349-2
TEMPTING THE LAIRD
© 2018 Dinah Dinwiddie
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Julia London
“Warm, witty and decidedly wicked—great entertainment.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Laurens on Hard-Hearted Highlander
“Julia London writes vibrant, emotional stories and sexy, richly drawn characters.”
—New York Times bestselling author Madeline Hunter
“An absorbing read from a novelist at the top of her game.”
—Kirkus Reviews, starred review, on Wild Wicked Scot
“Expert storytelling and believable characters make the romance [one that] readers will be sad to leave behind.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Wild Wicked Scot
“London is at the top of her game in this thrilling tale of political intrigue and second chances.”
—Booklist, starred review, on Wild Wicked Scot
“The fascinating love triangle, set amid the wilds of Scotland, creates a page-turning read that will resonate with fans of Highland romance.”
—Publishers Weekly on Hard-Hearted Highlander
Contents
Cover (#ufd38dc01-38bb-51e1-8f26-bf3c91be35f1)
Back Cover Text (#uf1d41663-b08b-5ee4-8a22-44cbfa63d5cc)
Booklist (#u5131a367-9aa6-5525-b529-2309de946b1e)
Title Page (#u39f03e9d-87b8-5b2e-b77b-66d634e75f38)
Copyright (#u0d598142-dd6e-5e4a-8017-2e9a16b474cb)
Praise (#ud84ffd0e-58f6-5799-83ef-3d144ac9e610)
Family Tree (#ud43295e5-bd3e-541c-a3ff-3e9a1fc02254)
CHAPTER ONE (#u513d3f68-319c-56d9-b913-f84a0f0ee141)
CHAPTER TWO (#u33a39558-2e98-594e-be91-aab413407d20)
CHAPTER THREE (#u73bb83d9-2689-551b-be76-e483fe074150)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u860aa7ce-770f-5440-98fc-48b7c1071918)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u55e01765-be8b-54e4-84ba-93e99cbeb9cf)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
AUTHOR’S NOTE (#litres_trial_promo)
GLOSSARY (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u01228827-fbef-5a9b-adf8-3aafd8d665c0)
Kishorn Lodge, Scottish Highlands, 1755
THERE’D BEEN A spirited debate among the Mackenzies of Balhaire over where to bury the remains of the venerable Griselda Mackenzie. Arran Mackenzie, her much beloved cousin, wanted her buried at the clan’s seat at Balhaire alongside two hundred years of Mackenzies. But Catriona, his youngest daughter—who had been as close to her “Auntie” Zelda as her own mother—wanted to bury her at Kishorn Lodge, where Griselda had lived most of her remarkable life.
In the end, a compromise was struck. Auntie Zelda was buried in the family crypt at Balhaire, but a fèille in her honor was held at Kishorn a month later. This arrangement satisfied Catriona, as it was the celebration she wanted for a woman who had lived life very much on her own terms.
Unfortunately, the weather turned foul on the eve of her fèille. Kishorn was remote, far into the Highlands, reachable practically only by boat. Therefore, only the most immediate Mackenzie family was able to attend, rowing up from Balhaire, past the Mackenzie properties of Arrandale and Auchenard, and across Loch Kishorn to the point where the loch met the river for which it was named.
There was scarcely anything or anyone this far into the Highlands. A village and prime hunting grounds had once graced the banks of the river, but they were long gone. A Mackenzie ancestor had built the lodge on the ruins of the village. Zelda, who had always preferred her freedom to a confining marriage, and had been indulged by her father, had taken possession of the abandoned lodge as a young woman and had made it her home, lovingly repairing and adding to it over the years.
The only thing left of that ancient village was a crumbling abbey, built on a hilltop overlooking the river glen. It was small as abbeys went, and no one could say whose abbey it had been. Zelda had decided it was hers and had made half of the original structure habitable again. The other half—what had once been the sanctuary—was missing its walls, and only a few beams and arches remained of the roof. It served no useful purpose, other than to provide a wee bit of respite from the weather for the cows that wandered in from time to time.
If only they’d had a respite from the cold rain that continued to beat a steady rhythm against the paned windows on the day of the fèille.
Catriona was quite undone by it—she’d planned this event to rival all such celebrations for years to come. “I’m bloody well cross with God this day, that I am,” she said to the women gathered around the fire blazing in the hearth. They included her mother, the Lady of Balhaire, and Catriona’s sister, Vivienne. Also present were her sisters-in-law, Daisy, Bernadette and Lottie. “It rained the day we buried her, and here it rains again. She deserved better, she did,” Catriona said as she carelessly held up her wineglass to be refilled.
“Zelda would not care a whit about rain, Cat,” her mother assured her. “She would care only that you carried on with the fèille in spite of it. Can’t you hear her laughing? She’d say, ‘Did you expect cherubs and bluebirds to herald my arrival? No, lass, heaven weeps when I knock at the door.’”
“Mamma,” Catriona said gravely, but she couldn’t help a small smile. Zelda would have indeed said something like that.
“I miss that old crone,” her mother said fondly, and lifted her glass in solemn salute. “She was incomparable.”
That was high praise coming from Margot Mackenzie. She and Zelda had maintained a fraught relationship through the years, had never quite seen eye to eye for reasons Catriona still didn’t fully understand. She knew that Zelda couldn’t bring herself to forgive her mother for being English, which, to be fair, was a sin in the eyes of many Highlanders. But Zelda had also seemed determined to believe the absurd notion that Catriona’s mother was a spy, of all things. Once, Catriona had asked her father why Auntie Zelda said her mother was a spy, and he’d given her a strange look. “Some things are better left in the past, aye?” he’d said. “You canna believe everything Zelda says, lass.”
He had not, Catriona had noted, denied it.
In spite of the ancient discord between the two women, in the last months of Zelda’s life, when she’d been ill more often than she’d felt well, Catriona’s mother had come once a week from Balhaire to sit with her. The two of them would argue about events that had occurred during their long lives, but they’d laughed, too, giggling with one another about secret things.
One of the serving women refilled Catriona’s wineglass. She drank it like water.
With all the Mackenzies crowded into the lodge, there was little room for the games Catriona had planned, and little else to occupy them. Frankly, Catriona had fallen into her cups. No, that wasn’t correct—she was swimming in her cups, an idea that made her giggle.
“There ought to be dancing,” Lottie complained, and shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the bairn she was holding. Another boy. “Something.”
“What do you mean?” Vivienne said. “You canna dance, Lottie.” She nodded to the bairn. Lottie had only recently delivered Carbrey. The birth of a second son had Catriona’s brother Aulay strutting about Balhaire like a bloody peacock.
