Bride of the Solway. Joanna Maitland
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Bride of the Solway - Joanna Maitland страница
He needed to listen for their pursuers. In fact, Ross thought he could hear something. Closer than before.
“The Laird of Galloway should be dead and damned to all eternity,” Cassie raged. “He would be well served in hellfire. For he is the very devil—”
“Miss Elliott. Hush! I think I hear horses!”
She ignored him. “And if he burns, it will—”
Ross had two choices. Silence her by brute force, or…He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
JOANNA MAITLAND
was born and educated in Scotland, though she has spent most of her adult life in England or abroad. She has been a systems analyst, an accountant, a civil servant and director of a charity. Now that her two children have left home, she and her husband have moved from Hampshire to the Welsh Marches, where she is reveling in the more rugged country and the wealth of medieval locations. When she is not writing, or climbing through ruined castles, she devotes her time to trying to tame her new house and garden, both of which are determined to resist any suggestion of order. Readers are invited to visit Joanna’s Web site at www.joannamaitland.com.
Bride of the Solway features characters you will have met in My Lady Angel.
Bride of the Solway
Joanna Maitland
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter Twenty-One
Prologue
London—Wednesday, 22nd June, 1815
R oss gritted his teeth and started for the door. Once through it, he might just have a chance of breathing again.
‘Captain Graham.’ Julie’s beloved voice was full of concern.
Ross turned back to her, slowly, trying to school his features into mere friendliness.
‘Pray do not leave us, sir,’ she said quietly. ‘There is so much still to discover. And so much to thank you for.’
He shook his head at her, forcing a smile. He found he could not speak.
‘And you must have so much to say to your friends here.’ She nodded in the direction of their hostess and her escort, talking together in the far corner of the room, sharing thoughts so intimate that they had brought a slight blush to the lady’s cheek. There stood a man whose love was returned, Ross thought. A fortunate man.
‘Most of all, my dear friend,’ Julie continued rather earnestly, ‘I should like you to know Pierre, to have him esteem you as I do.’
She was looking past Ross as she spoke, her eyes searching the room before fixing on a point beyond Ross’s shoulder. He knew, without turning, that her eye had lighted on her lover. The sudden softening of her glance and the glow of her complexion betrayed the depth of her feelings for the man.
Another shaft of pain stabbed deep into Ross’s gut.
Swallowing hard, he steeled himself to act the part of the gentleman and friend, the part he had been forced to play for months now. Yesterday, he had had hopes of winning her. No longer. All that was left was pride.
He bowed slightly to her. ‘Mademoiselle, I am at your service, as ever.’
Chapter One
‘Y ou harlot!’
His insult was the last straw. Cassandra Elliott launched herself at her half-brother in yet another attempt to retrieve the remains of her letters. But James was too big and too strong. He fended her off with one long arm, using the other to push the torn fragments of paper into the depths of the fire. Cassandra could do nothing but watch, while they twisted and blackened in the flames. ‘You are hateful,’ she spat, with a sob that was part fury, part frustration. ‘You have no right—’
‘I have every right! Now, you will tell me his name.’
Cassandra shook her head vehemently. ‘Never! You can—’
James pushed Cassandra roughly on to the oak settle. ‘I am the head of this family, and I will not have you bring disgrace upon us by your wanton behaviour.’
‘My wanton behaviour? I have done nothing but receive a few harmless love poems. Nothing more. But you, Jamie Elliott—’
‘I am—’
‘You are the one who spends every other night in the