The Lady and the Laird. Nicola Cornick
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Nicola Cornick's novels have received acclaim the world over
‘Cornick is first-class, queen of her game.’
—Romance Junkies
‘A rising star of the Regency arena’
—Publishers Weekly
Praise for the SCANDALOUS WOMEN OF THE TON series
‘A riveting read’
—NewYork Times bestselling author Mary Jo Putney on Whisper of Scandal
‘One of the finest voices in historical romance’
—SingleTitles.com
‘Ethan Ryder (is) a bad boy to die for! A memorable story of intense emotions, scandals, trust, betrayal and all-encompassing love. A fresh and engrossing tale.’
—Romantic Times on One Wicked Sin
‘Historical romance at its very best is written by Nicola Cornick.’
—Mary Gramlich, The Reading Reviewer
Acclaim for Nicola's previous books
‘Witty banter, lively action and sizzling passion’
—Library Journal on Undoing of a Lady
‘RITA® Award-nominated Cornick deftly steeps her latest intriguingly complex Regency historical in a beguiling blend of danger and desire.’ —Booklist on Unmasked
The Lady and the Laird
Nicola Cornick
Don't miss the Scandalous Women of the Ton series, available now!
WHISPER OF SCANDAL
ONE WICKED SIN
MISTRESS BY MIDNIGHT
NOTORIOUS
DESIRED
FORBIDDEN
Also available from Nicola Cornick
DECEIVED
LORD OF SCANDAL
UNMASKED
THE CONFESSIONS OF A DUCHESS
THE SCANDALS OF AN INNOCENT
THE UNDOING OF A LADY
DAUNTSEY PARK: THE LAST RAKE IN LONDON
Browse www.mirabooks.co.uk or www.nicolacornick.co.uk for Nicola's full backlist
To Margaret McPhee, who writes delicious
books and shares delicious cakes
Contents
PROLOGUE
Forres Castle, Scotland, June 1803
IT WAS A NIGHT made for magic.
The moon was new that night and the sea was a thread of shining silver. The wind sighed through the pine trees and there was the scent of salt on its edge.
“Lucy! Come and watch!”
Lady Lucy MacMorlan turned over in bed and drew the covers up more closely about her ears. She was warm and cozy and she had no urge to leave the cocoon of the blankets in order to shiver in the draught by the window. Besides, she did not want to join in with her sister Alice in casting a spell. They were foolish and dangerous and would only get the two of them into trouble.
“I’m not getting up,” she said, wriggling her toes in the warmth. “I don’t want a husband.”
“Of course you do.” Alice sounded impatient. At sixteen, Lucy’s twin was fascinated by balls and gowns and men. Earlier that evening, Alice had run three times around the ancient sundial in the castle grounds, reciting the words of the equally ancient love spell that on the new moon would give her a glimpse of the man she would wed. Lucy had stayed in the library, reading a copy of Hume’s Essays Moral and Political. Now, after sunset, Alice was awaiting the outcome of her enchantment.
“Of course you will marry,” Alice said again. “What else would you do?”
Read, Lucy thought. Read and write and study. It was more fun.
“Everyone marries.” Alice sounded grown-up, knowledgeable. “We are to make alliances and have children. It’s what the daughters of a duke do. Everyone says so.”
Marry. Have children.
Lucy thought about it, considering the idea rationally as she did all ideas. It was true that it was expected of them, and no doubt it was what their mother would have wanted. She had died when Lucy and Alice were no more than a few years old, but everyone said she had been the diamond of her generation, the elegant daughter of the Earl of Stratharnon