PROLOGUE
Blackrock Castle
On the Firth of Cromarty, Scotland
Year of Our Lord 1350
“Tell me that ye will come with me, sweetheart. We’ll start a life anew, just the two of us.”
They were in an outbuilding away from the great hall and keep of Blackrock Castle, an
enormous bastion of power that sat upon a rocky outcropping overlooking the sea. The
winds were cold this night, keeping men inside, which was perfect for their situation. They
didn’t want anyone interrupting them, especially when he was able to nestle her down in
the dried grass that had been collected for the animal’s winter feed and have his way with
her. Currently, that meant a hand up her skirt, where he was stroking the unfurling flower
between her legs. As he suckled on her tender earlobe, his fingers worked magic below.
“We’ll have a grand life,” he continued. “We’ll live wherever ye want tae live. Edinburgh?
Glasgow? If ye dunna want tae live in the big city, then I’ll tell my da tae give me my
inheritance and we’ll find someplace quiet, just for us.”
She was thinking about his request. She truly was. Luke Cannich had a way of making
her see things his way, and he had for months now. Ever since he’d been betrothed to her
sister. She’d known him longer than that, but she hadn’t had much contact with him until
his betrothal to Eventide. Evie. Emelia loved her sister, but she also lusted after Luke, who
had secretly wooed her with all the grace of a rutting bull. She was the eldest, after all. The
heiress. Her dowry was spectacular and she was the one who would inherit Blackrock.
Luke knew this.
And he wanted it.
Emelia cried out when he inserted a finger into her wet, quivering body. A second finger
went in and she gasped again as he suckled her earlobe hard, trying to seduce her as only
he was capable of.
“Tell me ye love me, Emelia,” he whispered. “Tell me ye’ll leave with me and we’ll live the
lives that we want tae live. Not the lives our parents tell us that we should.”
He was starting to mimic the thrusting of lovemaking with his fingers, and Emelia was
very nearly lost. How could he expect her to think straight when he did such wicked things
to her? Speaking of wicked, what they were discussing was wicked.
Terribly wicked.
Many people would be affected by it.
“I want tae,” she breathed. “But what of Evie? What of my sister?”
He didn’t let up on her, thrusting his fingers, only now he was starting to move down her
neck with his mouth. She knew where that would lead. Once he started fondling her
breasts, she’d be lost.
“Only I can do this tae ye,” he growled. “That big lug, Darien, canna bring ye the pleasure
that I can. Only I can do this tae ye.”
He was starting to pull her bodice down. “Darien dun Tarh is mannerly,” she said weakly.
“He’s very handsome.”
“He’s got a streak of white in his hair like a fool!”
“Say what ye will, but he’s a beauteous lad,” she said. “He’s also my betrothed.”
That had Luke yanking off half her bodice, tearing one of the seams, in his quest to get at
her breasts. “So he’s beauteous, is he?” he said, his mouth clamping down on a nipple and
suckling her so hard that it brought pinpricks of pain. “Do ye let him do this tae ye?”
Emelia was nearly incoherent. “He doesna try,” she said. “He tries tae be respectful.”
Luke removed his fingers, tossed up her skirts, and lowered his breeches. “Listen tae me,
Emelia Moriston,” he said angrily, placing his phallus between her legs but not entering her
just yet. “I am the only man worthy of ye. Darien dun Tarh is the son of Lucifer, and he’s
unworthy of ye. My people are descendent from the Picts, and we’ve bled and lived for
Scotland for generations. Do ye want yer children tae carry the blood of Satan or the blood
of a Scots?”
Emelia was looking up at him with a rather dazed expression. “Darien’s father is the Earl
of Torridon,” she said. “He’s not Lucifer!”
“He’s a former priest!” Luke said, pushing his manhood into her. They’d had this
argument before and it enraged him every time. “Ye would be married tae a man whose
father surrendered tae the devil. Surrendered his priesthood, and now his progeny are as
tainted as he is. I’ll make a better husband for ye, I swear it.”
With that, he thrust into her and she groaned with pleasure, spreading her legs wide and
welcoming him deep. Darien dun Tarh might have been her handsome betrothed, but Luke
Cannich was her lover. And what a lover. A mouth and manhood that was only meant for
her, even though Luke was betrothed to her younger sister. Poor Eventide. A sweet,
beautiful girl. Most said far more beautiful than Emelia, and that was perhaps why Emelia
had no real guilt in allowing Eventide’s betrothed to seduce her. Luke liked her better.
Anything to one-up her sister.
Emelia let Luke make love to her, but with him, it only lasted a minute or so. He had a
substantial manhood but absolutely no endurance. When he finally reached his climax and
spent himself on the dried grass around them, he grabbed Emelia by the jaw and forced her
to look at him.
“Then it is decided,” he said firmly. “We’ll flee and go tae Edinburgh. I can find work
somewhere and we’ll live well until we decide what tae do. Are ye with me, lass? I couldna
stand the pain if ye werena with me.”
“I’m with ye,” Emelia assured him, still panting from their encounter. “But when? Ye
know that I’m tae marry Darien at the end of the week.”
“I know,” Luke said, squeezing her jaw so hard that it left marks. “And we must plan
carefully. If we leave the night before the wedding, then everyone will be too drunk tae
follow us. We’ll leave when the feasting starts and that will give us all night tae get as far
away from them as we can. Can ye be ready?”
Emelia sat up, pushing her skirts down. “Aye,” she said. “It’ll be difficult packing a satchel
and trying tae keep it from Evie, but I can do it.”
“And bring all the money ye have. We’ll need it.”
“Do ye not have any?”
He stiffened. “I have money,” he said, pulling his breeches up. “But, as I said, we’ll need
all the money we can get tae start a new life. What about your dowry?”
“What about it?”
“Can ye get tae it?”
She thought on that, picking grass out of her dark, curly hair. “I dunna think so,” she said.
“I dunna know where my da keeps most of his coin. He hides it.”
Luke grunted. “Then take what ye can,” he said unhappily. “Make sure Evie doesna know.
Ye’ll have tae keep it secret.”
Emelia nodded. “I can,” she said. Then she smiled at him. “I can hardly believe it. We’ll
flee this dark place and live in the light. We’ll dance every night and drink as much as we
want and no one will stop us.”
Luke finished securing his breeches. Some called them braies, but his mother was
English and he’d grown up with a mixture of Scottish and English phrases and loyalties. But
the one thing he did stay true to was the greed of his father. The man had a strong heritage,
but he’d managed to drink away any money that had been left to him, hence the marriage
betrothal to Eventide Moriston. Luke had a large, run-down pele tower to inherit, but there
wasn’t much to it other than the land and the livestock. Luke’s father had managed to keep
that part of it hidden from Eventide’s father. As far as Fergus Moriston knew, the Cannich
clan was well off.
But it wasn’t.
Hence, Luke’s need for the heiress.
Even if he was stealing her away from one of the most powerful families in the
Highlands.
“Then ye’ll be ready for me,” he said, standing up and pulling her with him. “We’ll leave
this place and never look back.”
He was leading her toward the ladder that would deposit them into the stables below.
“We’ll find a cottage by the sea,” she said, telling him what he’d already heard several times
before. “A little cottage with a hearth and a dog. I do want a dog.”
He paused, grunting as he looked at her. “That’s another mouth tae feed, lass,” he said.
“Wait until I find a way tae make money before we take on more than just ourselves.”
Emelia clung to his arm with both hands. “But a little dog will be no trouble,” she said.
“And cherries. I want baskets of them.”
He began his trek down the ladder, helping her down after him. “Let’s worry about
getting free before we speak of dogs and cherries,” he said. “But make sure ye bring money
with ye. Dunna forget.”
Emelia took the last step of the ladder before ending up on the stable floor. “I willna,” she
said, still holding his hand. She took a moment to gaze up at the man, a brawny blond with a
strong body that smelled of musk. “Promise me we’ll be happy, Luke. Promise me that our
lives will always be full of laughter and happiness.”
He smiled faintly. “Always, lass,” he said with quiet assurance. “We’ll know nothing but
joy.”
Emelia beamed. “It will be difficult not speaking of this,” she said. “I want tae shout it tae
the world.”
He shook his head, kissing her swiftly on the lips. “If ye speak a word of it, yer da will
lock ye in a chamber and throw away the key,” he said. “Ye must not tell a soul. Promise
me?”
She nodded quickly. “Of course I willna,” she said. “I havena yet. I simply meant that I
feel like shouting tae the world. I’m so happy.”
He gave her hand a squeeze before pulling away. “And there’ll be more happiness tae
come, but not until next week,” he said. “I’ll be back before the wedding and we’ll go.”
He was starting to move toward the rear of the stable, where there was a window he
could flee from. His usual escape hatch for these encounters in the stable. Emelia followed
after him.
“And I’ll be ready,” she said, slipping in some horse dung that hadn’t been shoveled
away. “I love ye, my bonny lad.”
He was already halfway out of the window. “Remember that when I return,” he said,
refusing to repeat the sentiment because the truth was that he didn’t love her. He just
wanted her. “Off with ye, now. Go back tae the keep.”
Emelia nodded, waving at him as he slipped through the window and into the dusk
beyond. They were in a walled fortress, but the walls weren’t particularly high and there
was an old iron gate on the west side that led to the fields beyond. Blackrock hadn’t seen a
siege or a warring action in decades, so it wasn’t heavily guarded.
Perfect for a lover who liked to slip in and out of the place at his pleasure.
Emelia could see him flee over the wall and then into a grove of trees in the distance.
That was where she lost him. But it didn’t matter.
She’d see him again soon enough.
Leaving the stable, she headed for the hall because it was approaching supper and she’d
be expected to help. She loved her family, but she hated the work. Her father was tight with
his coin, so they didn’t have the servants that they should. Fergus expected his daughters to
work and lead productive lives. Perhaps that was good for some girls, but not Emelia. Luke
promised her a life of happiness and leisure, where she wouldn’t have to work and where
love would be the most important thing in their lives.
Her life, anyway.
She pushed aside the face that Luke seemed to have different goals than she did. He
seemed concerned with the money and drinking, while she was concerned with fun and joy.
She was certain she could bring him over to see her way of thinking. She was willing to
stake her future on it—a future that didn’t include the wife of a second son of the dun Tarh
clan because she was going to take the man her sister wanted.
In the end, she’d come out on top.
Fighting off a smile, Emelia headed into the hall. ...
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