How to Marry a Royal Highlander

Book 0: Renegade Royals

by Vanessa Kelly

Genres: Historical Fiction; Regency Romance; Scottish & Highlander

Synopsis

Illegitimate yet thoroughly irresistible, the Renegade Royals are leaving behind their careers as daring spies for the greatest adventure of all… At sixteen, Alasdair Gilbride, heir to a Scottish earldom, fled the Highlands and an arranged betrothal. Ten years later, Alasdair must travel home to face his responsibilities. It’s a task that would be much easier without the distracting presence of the most enticing woman he’s ever met… After one escapade too many, Eden Whitney has been snubbed by the ton. The solution: rusticating in the Scottish wilderness, miles from all temptation. Except, of course, for brawny, charming Alasdair. The man is so exasperating she’d likely kill him before they reach the border—if someone else weren’t trying to do just that. Now Eden and Alasdair are plunging into a scandalous affair with his life and her reputation at stake—and their hearts already irreparably lost…

Release date: June 30, 2015

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

It was turning out to be the worst day of Edie Whitney’s life. If she’d harbored any doubts, her family’s reaction to the unfortunate events at Lady Charlfort’s ball last night had dispelled any illusions.

She halted midpace when she heard the hurry of footsteps in the hall. When the door to her bedroom opened, and her twin sister rushed in, Edie almost collapsed with relief. Evelyn had moved out of the Reese family town house after her marriage a few weeks ago, and the empty bedroom next to Edie’s seemed to echo the sense of absence she now felt in her life.

Since they were little girls, the sisters had lived in each other’s pockets. She and Evelyn shared not only their looks but their thoughts, emotions, and secrets of the heart. Edie had always known that marriage would someday separate them, but she’d never truly prepared for it. When Wolf Endicott had waltzed back into Evelyn’s life a few months ago, it had changed everything.

Grateful that her twin had finally found happiness with the man she’d adored for years, Edie still couldn’t help feeling that the most essential element of her own life had gone missing. That made her feel like the most selfish wretch on the planet. To say that her emotions were in a muddle was a capital understatement.

“Dearest, what’s going on? Why is Mamma in such a tizzy?” Evelyn asked, stripping off her gloves to grasp Edie’s hands. She frowned. “Your fingers are like ice, and you look positively whey-faced. Are you ill? You never fall ill.”

Edie let the familiar pressure of her sister’s hands establish its calming hold. She tried to dredge up a bracing smile. “I’m fine. Better than fine. It’s everyone else who’s gone batty, not me.”

Her twin drew her to the silk chaise in the window alcove. “You know you can’t fool me. What did you do now?”

Edie flopped onto the chaise. Evelyn settled quietly next to her, as precise as a pin in her perfectly tailored carriage dress, her spectacles lending their usual air of bluestocking gravity.

But Evelyn also glowed with happiness, which polished her unassuming beauty to a high gleam.

“I’ve made a regular cock-up of things,” Edie said with a sigh. “Even Mamma is furious with me.”

“Surely not. Mamma is never angry with you.”

“She’s been banging on constantly since breakfast about how I’m the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. Surely she said something to you about my fatal transgression, as she keeps calling it.”

“No, I wanted to see you first before speaking with her. I sent Will into the drawing room to take the first volley.” Evelyn flashed a quick grin. “You would have thought I was sending him to face a regiment of bloodthirsty French dragoons.”

Edie couldn’t hold back a snicker at the idea of her brawny brother-in-law, a former military spy, quailing before their mother. While Wolf had known Lady Reese his entire life, he still found her an intimidating presence, as did most everyone.

Everyone except Edie. She’d always been able to manage Mamma, and everyone in the family depended on her to do just that in order to keep the peace. Lately, though, she seemed to be losing her touch.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Mamma is quite enamored of Wolf these days. She keeps referring to him as her favorite son-in-law.”

“He’s her only son-in-law,” Evelyn replied drily, “but never mind about that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Edie bolted up from the chaise, too frazzled to sit. She’d slept little last night after the incident—to use another of Mamma’s melodramatic turns of phrase. But despite Edie’s determined efforts to downplay the events of the previous evening in her own mind, a sense of near panic had kept her awake long into the night.

She took a hasty turn around the room before returning to stand in front of her sister. Evelyn sat quietly, clearly as ready as ever to do what was necessary to support her twin. It gave Edie the courage to blurt out the whole sorry mess.

“Well, you see . . .” She never got tangled up in words, but now her tongue was tied in ten thousand knots. “I, um, was at Lady Charlfort’s ball last night, as you know, and I was caught in a rather . . . awkward position.”

A look of foreboding crossed Evelyn’s face. “How awkward?”

“I went for a little stroll down the hall, the one that leads to Lady Charlfort’s orangery. It’s rather out of the way, as you know.”

“Please tell me you were alone, or at least went with someone respectable.”

Edie wrinkled her nose. “I was with Sir Malcolm Bannister.”

Evelyn looked horrified. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Edie said with a sigh. “And we got caught, too.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Edie waved her hand impatiently. “Kissing, of course. Why else would one wander down a secluded hallway with a notorious rake?”

Evelyn slapped her hand atop her chest, looking like a scandalized virgin, though her sister certainly now had more experience when it came to intimate relations between the sexes than Edie. A great deal, if her twin’s vague hints were any indication.

“You were kissing Sir Malcolm right there in the hallway?”

“Well, we were in a window alcove. One does want a little privacy in these matters, after all.”

Actually, what she’d wanted was to get back to the ballroom, since she’d immediately realized what a colossal mistake she’d made. Sir Malcolm, unfortunately, had had other ideas. Edie had been about to land a hearty kick to his shins when their doom had appeared in the form of Lady Charlfort and her gossiping old harpy of a mother, Lady Morgan. Both had, apparently, wanted to take a stroll down the hall at the same time.

Evelyn let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m assuming someone caught you.”

“Obviously,” Edie said sarcastically.

Her twin winced. “Sorry. Of course someone must have caught you.”

Edie sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I had no right to bite your head off.” She sat down again on the chaise. “I’m just tired and out of sorts.”

Evelyn took her hand in a comforting clasp. “Goose, as if you ever need to apologize to me. You’ve never done anything but take care of me and protect me.”

Edie had done her best to take care of Evelyn over the years, shielding her from their mother’s incessant carping and blocking anyone who tried to take advantage of her sister’s shy nature. But, in truth, it was Evelyn’s loving presence that had given Edie the courage to stand up to those who tried to lord it over her sister. People believed that Edie was the strong and fearless twin, ready to challenge the world, but she knew better. Evelyn had true courage—inner steel that enabled her to stand up for things that really counted.

“Who found you?” Evelyn asked. When Edie told her, she grimly shook her head. “Lady Morgan is the worst gossip in London.”

“Don’t I know it,” Edie gloomily replied.

“Just how compromising was the position?”

“He was kissing me rather vigorously, I’m sorry to say.” In fact, the dreary man had shoved his tongue halfway down her throat. Edie had been kissed a few times before, but she realized now how tame those earlier embraces had been. Sir Malcolm, in contrast, had acted like a starving man attacking a slab of rare roast beef.

“But you were fully clothed at all times?” Evelyn asked anxiously. “There was nothing exposed?”

She punctuated her question by waving a vague hand at Edie’s bosom. Fortunately, Edie had managed to keep Sir Malcolm’s wandering hands from latching on to that portion of her anatomy.

Edie held up a hand, as if taking an oath. “Not a ribbon, button, or pin out of place. Unlike some people I could mention who found themselves in a similar situation.”

Evelyn acknowledged the hit with a wry smile. “Thank God for that, at least. Once that happens, the outcome is usually fatal.”

Fatal, as in an inevitable trip to the altar. A similar situation had befallen Evelyn and Wolf some months ago, although everything had turned out perfectly in the end.

“You’d think Mamma would agree,” Edie said, “since it was really nothing more than a stupid kiss. And not even a very good one.”

“I’m assuming you have no wish to marry Sir Malcolm.”

“Absolutely not. Nor does he wish to marry me. He bolted out of the house as if his coattails were on fire.”

When Evelyn’s only response was a frown and a slow, thoughtful nod, Edie let out a resigned sigh. “Evie, I know that look as well as I know the back of my hand. You might as well just say what you’re thinking.”

Her twin gave her an apologetic smile. “Dearest, you know I would never criticize, but why would you put yourself in such a perilous situation? Especially for a cad like Sir Malcolm.”

Edie started fiddling with the end of the satin ribbon that trimmed the waist of her gown. But Evelyn had an endless supply of patience, and Edie knew her twin would wait her out. She tried for a less direct approach. “Evie, did you ever want to a kiss a man before Wolf? I mean really kiss him.”

“There was no man before Will,” her sister said wryly. That was true enough, since Evelyn had been in love with Wolf since she was a young girl.

Still, Edie needed something more to go on. “So, you never wanted to kiss anyone else, not even Michael? You were practically engaged to that poor man for almost two years.”

Everyone in the family had been convinced that Evelyn would marry Michael Beaumont, a kind and gentle man who’d been very fond of her. Wolf’s return home after the war had put the boots to that idea within a matter of weeks.

Her twin pondered the question. “I didn’t loathe the idea of kissing Michael,” she finally said, “but it didn’t make me jump for joy, either.”

“And I take it that Wolf’s kisses do make you jump for joy?”

Evelyn’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Edie huffed out a disgusted snort as she jumped up and started pacing the room again. “It’s just so unfair. I’m twenty-five, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her sister’s gaze lit up with understanding. “I see. You were experimenting. I suppose in that context it makes sense you’d pick Sir Malcolm. One would naturally assume that a handsome and notorious rake would be good at it.”

“One would assume wrong,” Edie said, coming to a halt by her bed. She braced a shoulder against one of the posts. “I know my plan was demented, but I’m beginning to wonder if there’s something wrong with me. I can’t seem to find anyone I’d really enjoy kissing, and . . . doing all those other things one does.”

“You just haven’t found the right man yet. It’s easy as anything once you do.” Evelyn studied her. “Although I could swear there’s someone who—”

Edie held up an imperious hand. “Do not even dare to whisper that man’s name.”

Her twin cut her a sly grin. “I clearly don’t need to, do I?”

Edie felt herself blushing. But Captain Alasdair Gilbride, the most attractive and the most infuriating man she’d ever met, flustered her beyond all reason. Since Edie made a point of never getting flustered, it was very disconcerting. “Evie, I’m warning you.”

An annoying little smile curled the edges of Evelyn’s mouth. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”

A quick tap on the door interrupted them, and a moment later their lady’s maid—or, rather, Edie’s lady’s maid now that Evelyn had married—came into the room.

“Lady Reese wants to see you both in the drawing room, Miss Eden,” Cora said. She directed a critical eye at Edie’s coiffure and then let out an exasperated sigh. “Your head looks like you stuck it in a rose bush. I told you not to tug on your curls.”

“I’ve been doing no such thing,” Edie protested, “and you needn’t speak to me as if I were a little girl.”

The maid steered Edie to her dressing table. It took her only a few tweaks to restore order to her thick locks.

“All better,” Cora said, giving Edie’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “We don’t want to give Lady Reese anything to complain about, do we?”

“You mean on top of all the other ammunition I’ve given her?” she replied sardonically.

“Everything will be fine,” Evelyn said, coming to her. “Mamma never stays angry with you.”

Edie rose to her feet. “I don’t think so. She was mad as blazes last night. She even yelled at me when we got into the carriage, and she’s never done that before.”

Evelyn and Cora exchanged startled glances, which didn’t make Edie feel any better. She’d always been her mother’s favorite child, the one who never got more than the mildest of scolds for any infraction. But last night even the plumes on her mother’s turban had vibrated with anger.

Evelyn took her hand. “We’d better go down and get it over with.”

“Good luck, miss,” Cora said, grimacing.

She gave her maid a weak smile before she and Evelyn proceeded in silence down the hall to the staircase. Edie could tell her twin was getting anxious.

“I’m not going to the gallows,” Edie said. “There’s no need to measure me for a casket just yet.”

“I’m sure everything will turn out just fine,” Evelyn said. “More than fine. Splendid, in fact.”

“Good God,” Edie said with a sigh.

She carefully held on to the banister as they made their way down the stairs. She’d adapted years ago to her wretched eyesight. Though she didn’t wear spectacles like her sister, she never took unnecessary chances. The last thing she needed today was a tumble down the staircase.

Their butler, Parkins, was stationed outside the drawing room. As he opened the door, he gave her an almost undetectable grimace of sympathy. Everyone in the household depended on Edie to manage Lady Reese out of her moods, but the servants had clearly realized that their champion had been knocked off her perch.

Squaring her shoulders, Edie followed her sister into the spacious drawing room. She squinted slightly to see her family scattered around the large space, obviously sitting as far away from Mamma as they dared. Evelyn’s husband was there, lurking at the back of the room like a timid youth instead of the strapping soldier that he was. Wolf Endicott was no coward, though. He came forward to take Edie’s hand while flashing his wife a loving smile.

“Good morning,” he said. “Why don’t you both have a seat on the sofa?”

Edie ignored her mother’s irritated huff as Wolf led them to the sofa near the fireplace.

Mamma was ensconced in one of the elegant Queen Anne armchairs directly across from them. Papa sat next to her, although he’d clearly edged that chair farther away. When he gave Edie a morose smile, it made her heart plunge with a sickening combination of guilt and dismay. Papa was the kindest of fathers and a truly estimable husband as far as she was concerned. All he asked was to have a relatively peaceful household and to be left alone when it came to domestic matters. Normally, Mamma complied with his wishes, but this morning she’d obviously pulled out the big guns.

Her brother, Matthew, had squeezed his rather large bulk onto an undersized bench in a window bay across the room and was doing his best to appear invisible. Fortunately, he’d shown the good sense to leave his snobby new wife at home. Mary never missed an opportunity to snipe at Edie and Evelyn, and she would have loved to lord it over everyone on such an occasion.

Mamma waited for them to get settled, her handsome, aristocratic features stony. As always, she was impeccably garbed, her tall, willowy figure and dark chestnut hair set off to advantage by her bottle green, merino wool morning dress. None of her children resembled her to any degree, instead taking after their golden-haired, sturdily built father. Mamma had always deplored the fact that her husband’s yeoman stock had prevailed in her children’s looks. Not that it had held them back. Both Evelyn and Matt had married well, and Edie had no shortage of suitors.

Although that might very well change after last night.

“Now that we are gathered,” her mother started in a voice that presaged doom, “it’s time to decide what to do about Eden’s fatal transgression.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mamma,” Edie said. “That’s doing it rather too brown, even for you. My error was surely not fatal.”

Her mother’s lips went tight and pale. But before she could snap back, Papa reached over and laid a gentle hand on his wife’s arm. Mamma cast him an angry glance, but held her tongue.

“I’m prepared to put up with quite a lot from my children,” Papa said in a stern voice. “But I will not allow them to disrespect their mother. Your outburst is both unhelpful and unwelcome, Eden. I expect better from you.”

Edie winced. Her outburst aside, her father’s reprimand meant that the situation was probably as bad as Mamma thought it was.

“I’m sure Edie didn’t mean any disrespect, Papa,” Evelyn said, casting a worried glance at their clearly irate mother.

Edie squeezed her sister’s hand. “No, Papa’s right. I was disrespectful.” She smiled apologetically at her mother. “I’m sorry, Mamma. Truly I am.”

Her mother’s flinty gaze narrowed until she finally moved her head in a frosty nod of acceptance.

“As I was saying before I was interrupted,” her mother continued, “we must find a way to deal with the consequences of Eden’s extremely unfortunate behavior last night. Those consequences were made even worse by her choice of a grossly unsuitable partner for her escapade. If she’d been found in such circumstances with a respectable man, we might have been able to manage the scandal in the usual way of things. Sir Malcolm, however, is not a respectable man, and one cannot depend on him to take the honorable course of action.”

Thank God for small mercies. If Edie had been stupid enough to get caught with one of her real beaus, Mamma would be trying to frog-march her to the altar within days. Sir Malcolm was not only a rake; he was possessed of a very modest fortune and that, in Mamma’s eyes, might be a greater sin than his deplorable reputation. If nothing else, her mother was a very practical person.

“My dear, are you sure the situation is as bad as you believe?” her father asked. “Since Lady Charlfort is a particular friend of yours, surely she won’t spread any nasty rumors.”

“No, but her mother will suffer no such compunctions,” Mamma replied. “Lady Morgan may be a dowager countess, but her conduct has always been exceedingly crass. I suppose that’s not surprising given that her father was a member of the mercantile classes.”

“Horrors,” Edie muttered under her breath. Her sister dug a warning elbow into her ribs.

“Despite my best efforts last night,” Mamma went on, “the worst sort of gossip is already making the rounds. By the end of the day, Eden’s reputation will lie in tatters.”

“Oh, bad luck, that,” Matt unhelpfully blurted. “Really, Edie, what were you thinking? Sir Malcolm is a complete bounder.”

Though Edie was tempted to fire back at him, her brother was right. “I know. It was stupid. And he was even rather sloppy about the whole business, too.”

It seemed manifestly unfair that on top of everything else, kissing Sir Malcolm had been akin to getting one’s face licked by an overly enthusiastic mastiff.

“We do not need the details,” her mother snapped.

“Of course not,” Papa hastily said. “And I’m sure you have a plan to deal with this awkward situation, my dear, don’t you?”

Edie repressed a sigh. Not for the first time, she wished that her dear father would be a little more assertive when it came to family matters. God only knew what Mamma would come up with in her present state.

“There is only one possible plan,” her mother said. “Edie must rusticate.”

“That’s the ticket, Mamma,” Matt said immediately. “A little time in the country should do the trick. After all, we’ll all be toddling down to Maywood Manor in a few weeks for the holiday season. And Edie likes the country, don’t you, old girl?”

Feeling almost weak with relief, Edie smiled at her brother. She didn’t much like the idea of leaving town in disgrace, but there were far worse things than going home for a long spell. And her brother was correct—they’d be leaving London in November in any case. If a little early rustication were her only punishment for last night’s stupidity, she would count herself lucky.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Matthew,” Mamma said, “but Eden will not be going home to Maywood Manor.”

Edie jerked upright, as did Evelyn.

“I won’t?” Edie asked in a disbelieving voice. “Why not?”

Her mother’s basilisk-like regard returned to her. Edie could imagine herself turning into a pillar of salt under that hard gaze.

“Because I will not reward your bad behavior,” Mamma said. “And it wouldn’t address the problem in any case. Maywood Manor is hardly out of the way, and there is always a great deal of visiting and socializing at that time of year. Short of locking you in one of the attics for the winter, you would still be very much in the public eye.”

“Well, we certainly cannot have you in the attic. The neighbors would talk even more,” Edie’s father said, trying for a little joke.

Mamma glared at him for a few seconds before answering. “Eden should spend the winter with Lady Torbeck, in Yorkshire. Aunt Eugenia has not been in the best of health, and I’m sure she would benefit from some younger company. Besides, it will do Eden good to be of use, for once, instead of flitting about London like a deranged butterfly.”

Edie stared at her mother in horror. The idea of spending the winter in the wilds of Yorkshire, especially under the nose of a veritable tartar like Lady Torbeck, appalled her. She might as well hang herself now and get it over with.

“Good God, Mamma,” Evelyn said, sounding as horrified as Edie felt. “You might as well bury poor Edie alive.”

That gruesome but surprisingly apt image propelled Edie to her feet. She hurried to her mother’s chair and sank down, sitting back on her heels.

“Mamma, I’m sorry for what I did. Truly I am.” She propped her folded hands on her mother’s knee, just as she used to do when she was a little girl and needed to wheedle her way around Mamma’s anger. Because that anger had usually been directed at Evelyn, she understood in a visceral way how awful it must have been for her twin to be on the receiving end of their mother’s temper.

“And I swear I’ll do just as you say and not make any more trouble,” she continued, staring earnestly into her mother’s cool green eyes. “I’ll be quite the reformed character, you’ll see. Just don’t send me away from everybody.”

She hated the little catch in her voice and knew that Mamma would hate it, too. Her mother was never one for excessive displays of emotion—at least the more sentimental ones—and she would no doubt feel that Edie was trying to manipulate her.

But Edie wasn’t. The idea of spending the winter in lonely exile in Yorkshire made her feel like the world was crashing down on top of her.

For several fraught seconds, her mother’s gaze remained cold. Then, she blinked, and a small, weary sigh passed her lips.

“My dear, I don’t do this simply to punish you,” she said, resting a slender hand on Edie’s clenched fists. “You believe that your popularity will allow you to weather the worst of the gossip, but I assure you that such is not the case. The ton is unforgiving in these matters. Your friends will snub you, and your suitors—the eligible ones, anyway—will avoid you. People will lie about what you’ve done and won’t care that they are lying. Your reputation will be irrevocably stained.”

Though her mother’s features had softened with sympathy, her words were like a giant hammer pounding Edie down onto the carpet.

“I’d like the chance to try,” she said. “To face it head-on and see if I can get through it.”

All sympathy leached from her mother’s gaze. “I will not allow you to put yourself or this family through such a doomed enterprise. It would only make matters worse.”

Edie heard the soft rustle of her sister’s skirts behind her. A moment later, Evelyn’s comforting hand rested on her shoulder, and Edie had to blink back tears. Evelyn was always there for her, and the idea of so long a separation from her twin was gutting.

“Mamma, must it be Yorkshire?” Evelyn asked. “Surely there’s some other alternative.”

The sound of a masculine throat being discreetly cleared had Edie turning around. Wolf had been so quiet up to this point that she’d forgotten he was in the room.

“I don’t mean to be interfering,” her brother-in-law said. “But I have an idea about that.”

He directed an apologetic smile at Mamma. He looked absolutely harmless, which was truly ridiculous. Until recently, Wolf had been a spy for the Crown, and Edie knew he was more than capable of doing whatever needed to be done.

Mamma had grown quite fond of Wolf since he’d come back into Evelyn’s life—partly because he was the son of the Duke of York. Even though he’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket, Mamma found it rather grand to have a son-in-law with royal blood running through his veins.

“Yes, William?” Mamma asked with an encouraging smile. “What would you suggest?”

When Wolf glanced at Edie and smiled, a dreadful sense of foreboding stole over her.

“What would you think,” he said, “of spending the winter in Scotland?”

Captain Alasdair Gilbride, late of the Black Watch, eyed Aden St. George with distaste. “So, if I don’t return to that benighted castle, Dominic Hunter will haul my arse in front of Prinny and have me ordered back to the Highlands. Do I have that right?”

His cousin lifted the glass holding a generous portion of scotch, admiring the rich amber hue within the sparkling cut crystal. “You do. By the way, Alec, this is a very fine whiskey.”

“It should be. It came from one of the oldest distilleries in Scotland.” He didn’t bother to mention that his family owned the distillery. “But you’re dodging the issue, Aden. I refuse to believe that there isn’t some mission you could send me on. Surely there’s still a need for spies, even after we put the boots to Boney.”

Aden’s heavy sigh sounded more like an expression of sympathy than exasperation. Not that sympathy was likely to get Alec where he wanted to be, which was anywhere but Scotland.

The library of his grandfather’s London mansion was a gracious and noble room, if one’s taste ran to styles favored over half a century ago. Although the house was kept spit-cleaned and polished by a small but capable crew of servants, it hadn’t truly been a home in years. Alec couldn’t remember the last time his grandfather had visited London. The only reason the Earl of Riddick had kept the place was for Alec to occasionally camp out there during his infrequent trips from the Continent during the war. As such, the house seemed trapped in another era, even down to the books. Alec was willing to bet that no new volumes had been added to the library since the previous century.

“There will always be a need for spies,” Aden said, “but that doesn’t mean we need you to be running around in disguise, rooting out conspiracies and killers. We have plenty of agents on hand, so we do not need the heir to an earldom risking his life on dangerous missions. You’re getting too old for that, anyway.”

Alec scoffed. “Good Gad, I’m only twenty-six, you idiot. Considerably younger than you.”

“Then it’s time you listened to your elders. And to your superior in the service, I might add. I’m giving the orders now, Alec, and I’m ordering you to go home.”

Alec scowled at his cousin. When Dominic Hunter, the best spymaster England had seen in a generation, had retired, Aden St. George had stepped into his place. He now ran a significant portion of the Intelligence Service, and his word determined whether Alec would stay or go.

Aden stretched out his booted legs and dangled a negligent hand over the arm of one of the leather club chairs that faced Alec’s desk. To the casual observer, he looked like the average Corinthian, entirely at his leisure until he lounged off to a cockfight or to his club. But Alec knew how false that impression was. His cousin was still one of England’s most effective and lethal spies. Neither marriage nor his promotion to head of mission had changed that.

“Alec, you’ve earned the rest,” Aden said. “You spent ten years fighting. You’re heir to one of the most powerful titles in the Union. You have a place in the world and a role to play, and it’s time you faced up to that. And perhaps you could try, for once, to enjoy the privileges inherent in that position instead of running away from them. Most men would kill to be where you are.”

Alec almost inhaled a snort of whiskey at the idea that he would actually enjoy the obligations that awaited him back at Blairgal Castle. And as for whether he had a right to the attendant privileges that r. . .