“Thank you.”
Emmeline looked as though she would say something else, but she simply whispered, “Write to me,” then scurried toward her room. Ines watched her go and then saw the reason for her abrupt departure. Lady Charlotte was approaching.
Ines straightened her shoulders.
“Have you been inside yet?” Lady Charlotte asked, gesturing to the closed door of the bed chamber.
“Not yet.”
“Allow me then.” Duncan’s mother opened the door and held out a hand for Ines to enter. Ines stepped inside and took a breath. The room was huge with a hearth almost as big as she boasting a roaring fire. The curtains to a window were still open, and Ines was drawn to the view of the mountains with the pink of the setting sun behind them. Then she could not help but peek at the bed. It was monstrous in size, with heavy blue velvet curtains hanging about it.
“That bed is famous.” Lady Charlotte motioned to it. “’Tis said King James VI slept in that bed.”
Ines had no idea who that was, but she tried to look impressed. She motioned to the lace cuffs she had noticed Lady Charlotte wore earlier. “They look well on you,” she said.
Lady Charlotte looked at them and then back at Ines. “They are the finest lace I have ever owned. Thank you, and I am sorry for the way I treated you when you first arrived. And after you first arrived. Duncan can be so impulsive, and I had to be sure he really cared for you. I thought I could bait him into revealing his feelings if I—” She sighed. “Well, I should have known he would do things his way.”
Ines put a hand on her arm. “We will start over, sim?”
“Yes.” Awkwardly, she gave Ines a stiff hug. Ines pulled her close and hugged her harder until Lady Charlotte laughed. “We will start over.”
Ines pulled back. “Good. And now can you help me take this dress off? I have a wedding night ahead of me.”
Lady Charlotte looked surprised at being asked to play lady’s maid, but she complied. When she left, Ines poured two glasses of wine from the bottle on the table by the bed, slipped off the robe and then the nightrail she wore and climbed naked into the big bed. She did not think she would have to wait long for Duncan to arrive.
She was right.
DUNCAN
His mother stepped out of the bridal chamber just as Duncan was reaching to open it. He stared at her in confusion. Had he the wrong chamber? And then he gave his mother a wary look. “Ye didnae kill her, did ye? This is nae time tae play Lady MacBeth.”
She glowered at him as only she could. “I did not kill her. I helped her take her clothes off.”
Duncan reached for the door handle again.
“Wait.”
He stilled and gave his mother a long-suffering look.
“I want to tell you something.”
Duncan nodded. “Ye love me.”
“I love you.”
“Yer happy I have come home.”
“I am happy you have come home. To stay,” she added.
“Tae stay. Which gives us plenty of time tae talk tomorrow.” He reached for the door again.
“Wait.”
Duncan heaved a sigh.
“I never blamed you, you know? For your father’s death.”
Duncan stiffened involuntarily. The topic still brought a lance of pain through his heart.
His mother gave him a sad smile. “The men who killed him bear the responsibility. Not you. Never you, sweet boy. I knew you felt responsible, and I should have said something to you. But I had my own pain, and I suppose I was not a very good mother for not taking yours on as well.”
Duncan put a hand on her shoulder. “Ye protected me and yer family. Ye raised the three of us on yer own. Ye were a verra good mother.”
“And I intend to be an even better grandmother.”
Duncan smiled. “Then I’d best open that door.” But before he did, he bent and kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, aye?”
“Aye,” she said with a smile.
Duncan opened the door and stepped into the room. The curtains had been closed and the fire banked low enough to give warmth but not overly heat the room. He looked about but did not see Ines. What had his mother done to her?
The bedcurtains moved, and he spotted the glasses of wine next to the bed. “Wife?” he called.
“Come find me,” she said. “Naked.”
He let out a breath, half laugh half groan. Moving toward her, and stripping off his clothing as he went, he was naked when he parted the curtains and looked down. Propped on one elbow, she too was naked. She looked up at him, her eyes taking him in appreciatively. “Come here, husband, and ravish me.”
“Ravish ye?”
“Is that not what you say in Scotland?”
“I dinnae ken what other men say, but I plan to love ye, lass.”
She held out her arms and he went to her, pulling her warm body against him. “I plan tae love ye tonight.” He kissed her lips. “Then again tonight.” His hand stroked her hips and cupped her bottom. “Then again tonight.” He gave her a light slap when she laughed. Then he pulled back and looked down at her, her face so lovely in the flickering firelight.
“I’ll love ye all the days of my life.”
“And I you.” She lifted her lips to kiss him, and his mouth met hers. The kiss was searing, and he pressed her legs apart, eager to be inside her.
“There is just one thing,” she said.
Duncan who had already found her sex, warm and wet for him, blew out a breath. “Anything, lass.”
“You must promise to throw me over your shoulder and carry me to bed again.”
He looked up at her. “Ye like that, do ye?”
She nodded. “I like it when you are wild and unpredictable and—oh, yes, when you do that.” She caught her breath.
“Then hold on, love, because one thing I can promise ye is more of that.” He kissed her. “And this.” He pulled her closer. “And...”
But she took his mouth and for a long time no words were needed. He showed her how much he loved her, would always love her—passionate, exciting, and dangerous to the end.
About Shana Galen
SHANA GALEN IS THREE-time Rita award nominee and the bestselling author of passionate Regency romps. Kirkus said of her books: "The road to happily-ever-after is intense, conflicted, suspenseful and fun." RT Bookreviews described her writing as “lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching." She taught English at the middle and high school level for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston's inner city. Now she writes full time, surrounded by three cats and one spoiled dog. She's married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making.
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Read the first book in the Survivor series to feature Ines, Duncan, Benedict, and Catarina—The Claiming of the Shrew. Read an excerpt below, then get your copy!
SHE WAS BARELY INSIDE the doors of the hotel, when Juan Carlos stepped out from behind the chair where he’d been lurking. His face blushed red with anger and his mustache quivered with impatience. “You are late,” he said in Spanish. He took her arm then abruptly dropped it, looking down at his damp hands. “What happened to you?” His gaze flew to her face. “You look like a street rat.”