The Scot. Lyn Stone

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The Scot - Lyn  Stone


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      “What are you doing?”

      Susanna yelped, jerking her head around so fast she slung a shower of water out of her long wet hair. She scrunched the thick toweling closer, hastily covering as much of her as possible. “Get out of here!”

      Her husband leaned against the door frame, biting back a grin. It shone like devilment in his eyes as his gaze traveled the length of her. “Pardon the intrusion,” he said, so insincerely she wished she had something to throw at him.

      Fortunately for him, she had nothing near enough but the bar of soap on the ledge. She was tempted. “Get out of here immediately!”

      One shoulder shrugged. “You’ve seen me in the natural state. Turnabout’s fair, eh?” He paused while he looked his fill.

      Susanna shivered. Her teeth chattered. She was not that cold at the moment. But she was furious…!

      Praise for LYN STONE’s recent titles

      The Highland Wife

      “…laced with lovable characters, witty dialogue,

      humor and poignancy, this is a tale to savor.”

      —Romantic Times

      Bride of Trouville

      “I could not stop reading this one….

      Don’t miss this winner!”

      —Affaire de Coeur

      The Knight’s Bride

      “Stone has done herself proud with this

      delightful story…a cast of endearing characters

      and a fresh, innovative plot.”

      —Publishers Weekly

      #644 THE MIDWIFE’S SECRET

      Kate Bridges

      #645 FALCON’S DESIRE

      Denise Lynn

      #646 THE LAW AND KATE MALONE

      Charlene Sands

      The Scot

      Lyn Stone

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Available from Harlequin Historicals and LYN STONE

      The Wicked Truth #358

      The Arrangement #389

      The Wilder Wedding #413

      The Knight’s Bride #445

      Bride of Trouville #467

      One Christmas Night #487

      My Lady’s Choice #511

      The Highland Wife #551

      The Quest #588

      Marrying Mischief #601

      Gifts of the Season #631

      “Christmas Charade”

      The Scot #643

      Other works include:

      Silhouette Intimate Moments

      Beauty and the Badge #952

      Live-In Lover #1055

      A Royal Murder #1172

      This book is in memory of my father, Harlan Perkins, who allowed me to make my own decisions, congratulated me when they were right and never said, “I told you so” when they were wrong.

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Epilogue

      Chapter One

      Edinburgh, 1856

      James Garrow slowly rotated his second tankard of ale with a thumb and forefinger as he mentally tallied the British pounds he had accrued during the past fortnight. A mere fraction of what was needed to carry the remnant of his clan through until next summer, but still better than he had anticipated. Stonework didn’t pay much, but with all the new construction, it was steady. His hard-won degrees in the study of architecture were doing him precious little good.

      He glanced around, grimacing ruefully at his surroundings. The Hog and Truffle Inn, despite its earthy name, did furnish clean sheets, fairly decent meals and passable ale. His private room here would have fit neatly into his garderobe back home, but the loneliness of the city not-withstanding, he’d rather have a small space than share one with a stranger. God, he’d be glad to return to the Highlands. Before the first snow, he promised himself.

      His ears perked as he heard a name mentioned at the table behind him. Eastonby. The earl? James slouched back in his chair so that he was a few inches nearer and listened to the muted conversation with interest.

      “His girl’s with him, I hear,” a rough voice whispered.

      “So much the better,” another answered in kind, the accent soft and cultured.

      “Cause an outcry the like of which you ain’t never heard,” the other warned. “Killin’ a man’s one thing, but—”

      “You want the money?” came the silky question. “Then you do as I say. There’ll be the woman.” An enticement that drew a suggestive growl.

      “We’ll


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