Highlander Mine (Clan Mackenzie) - Softcover

Buch 3 von 3: Clan Mackenzie

Miller, Juliette

 
9780373778331: Highlander Mine (Clan Mackenzie)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373778333 ISBN 13: 9780373778331
Verlag: HQN, 2014

Inhaltsangabe

www.JulietteMiller.com

Deep in the lush Highlands, a powerful laird with everything to lose must risk it all for the lass who storms into his keep—and his heart. 

Raised on the debauched margins of society, Amelia Taylor depends upon her quick wit and fiery spirit to survive. When danger closes in on her already precarious home, she flees into the Highlands and finds refuge in the iron-strong circle of Clan Mackenzie. There, her lack of propriety and intriguing beauty draw the attentions of their formidable leader. But to remain safe from pursuit, she must conceal her identity, even if it means deceiving Laird Knox Mackenzie. 

A fiercely guarded and staunchly moral warrior, Knox never expected a ravishing stranger like Amelia to reawaken his desires. Yet as their heated confrontations unlock untold passion, temptation proves impossible to resist. So when Amelia's tapestry of lies begins to unravel, the secrets from her dark past threaten both his Clan and a future they can only dare to dream of….

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Juliette Miller is an incurable romantic and an acute sufferer of wanderlust. She began writing romance soon after she met the man of her dreams in a smoky bar on a Greek Island. Born in Minnesota, Juliette has lived in New York, London, Vermont, Washington DC, Paris, and currently lives with her winemaker husband and two children in New Zealand. You can find her on the web at www.juliettemiller.com and on twitter: @authorjuliette.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.



The danger of the journey ahead was equal to the perils we had left behind, this I knew. My knowledge of the Highlands was practically nonexistent. I might as well have been embarking on an escapade to the jungles of Africa, or captaining my own pirate ship to the newly discovered Americas.

Yet I was glad to be free of stuffy, seedy Edinburgh. I had never been past its borders and I was sure we had entered another world entirely, one that was as free as it was possible to be. As we hitched rides farther and farther up into the rolling peaks of the high country, it seemed impossible that such a place could harbor threats of any kind, so peaceful and serene its landscape appeared. We could hide ourselves in these picturesque hills and protected valleys, I was sure. No more murderous ganglords to contend with. No cardsharks or knife fights. No bawdy dens full of loose women and predatory men. Just wide-open countryside, glistening expanses of sparkling, sun-shimmered water and an endless azure sky.

Of course, there were dangers. I was a young woman traveling alone, after all, aside from my small nephew, who fancied himself a mighty warrior but was in fact a nine-year-old waif with a toy wooden sword that he clutched even now, in his sleep, as we rode along on the back of a hay wagon. Its driver was unaware of our quiet presence-we had become surprisingly adept at keeping ourselves hidden, with all the practice we'd had over days past. As soon as the wagon slowed, we'd jump and take our chances with the next mode of transport.

I wasn't sure of our exact destination. The Highlands had seemed a good place to hide from our pursuers. Indeed it was a perfect choice. Was there a more expansive place on earth? I doubted as much, though I'd only read books on the subject of travel. I had spent my entire life cooped up in two city residences only streets apart. And, while the social divide of my homes' geography might as well have seen oceans between them, this was a detail that hardly mattered now. My past was well and truly behind me.

At least for now.

We'd been on the road for five days, climbing ever higher into the undulating green mountains. We'd seen very few people. Farmers, mostly. A lone fisherman. Shepherds and goatherds, who seemed as mild and docile as the flocks they tended.

Aye, this world was new to me, but I wasn't that naive. Men were men, after all, and I knew of their tendencies far too well. Everyone had heard of the Highlands clans and their armies, their fearsome warriors and their bloody battles. Watching the glowing orb of the yellow sun hover ever lower over the horizon, I wondered now if those stories were merely folklore. I'd seen no sign of war or aggression in these lovely heather-peppered hills. Only honest endeavor and peaceful coexistence.

It might have been a sixth sense or the slide of a silver-edged cloud over the low-hanging sun, but some instinctive flutter warned me that safety was only a temporary illusion. Despite this, I felt wary but not afraid. Even sword-wielding warriors were preferable to the threats we'd left behind. At least skilled soldiers loyal to their cause and their kin might have some sense of honor and integrity, not like the lawless, malevolent beast who would be scouring Edinburgh at this very moment to find our trail.

I only wished we could travel faster. I would go to the very ends of the earth to hide and protect Hamish. As I looked around at the countryside, it occurred to me that we might have actually reached a place where that might be possible.

The wagon driver slowed his horses to a walk. I peered around the back of the wagon to see we were approaching a large tavern. We'd reached some oasis of community within this vast green desert of solitude.

I shook my nephew. "Hamish," I whispered. "Wake up."

Hamish was instantly alert, his dark eyes bright, his sword held in his small fist. He understood the danger, even if he didn't grasp the severity of our current predicament. It helped that his lifelong dream was to travel to the Highlands, a desire that seemed almost innate. He'd yearned for an adventure for as long as I could recall.

And now, despite the gravity of our situation, I almost smiled at his sparked excitement. He loved the open majesty of this place, so different from the enclosed, squalid streets of the city. "You've taken ridiculously well to this life on the run," I told him quietly.

He perched at the edge of the wagon's deck, his sandy brown hair tousled and flecked with hay. He looked back at me, a smile on his beatific face. "So have you, Ami," he whispered, pronouncing the address with all the flair of its French meaning: friend. He was the only person who used this shortened form of my full name, Amelia. Once, a short lifetime ago, I had attended one of the most exclusive schools in Edinburgh. Hamish had never had such a privilege. So I'd taken it upon myself to teach him everything I knew. It was one of the few things I had to be proud of: my nephew, at the age of nine, could read, write, do sums and speak basic French better than many of the fully grown men who frequented my family's establishment. I was slightly less proud of Hamish's uncanny knack not only for counting cards but also for dealing them. I'm only taking after you, Ami, he'd said to me. You're the best dealer in Edinburgh. Whether or not it was an accurate accusation was no longer relevant. I'd only done what I needed to do to survive, as I would again, in whatever way this new life required.

I held his arm, taking in the details of our surroundings. It was dusk now and the dimming daylight would give us an advantage. A thick copse stood behind the tavern: a place to take cover until we could fully assess the clientele of the inn. Wagons of many descriptions were parked along the road, and upward of twelve horses had been tied to a hitching rail. They were slow, sturdy farm horses. None were coated with sweat as though they'd been ridden at pace all the way from Edinburgh. I felt confident that there was nothing to fear here, that our pursuers were a long way from tracing our trail to this unlikely hideout.

"Now," I whispered.

The slow pace of the wagon made the disem-barkment easy enough. Our only belongings were Hamish's sword and a small bag I carried, which contained two woolen blankets, a single spare, fine dress of my sister's, a wineskin full of water and a few coins I'd managed to take from the cashbox as we'd made our escape. I had also brought the small red book that was my most sentimental possession; in it, I had recorded dreams, scribbled poems and wishes, and drawn pictures of trees and stars and fanciful yearnings. An impractical possession, aye, but symbolically precious to me nonetheless and light enough to carry. Holding on to Hamish's hand, I led him past the entrance of the tavern and into the woods. We needed to check our appearances and get our story straight.

Tonight, it seemed, we might need to put all our skills of deceit and persuasion to good use. We were both, it had to be said, somewhat gifted in the ways of trickery, since we'd had a regular need to fabricate tales to various people and on a daily basis, like debt collectors, upset wives or the law, to name a few. These were skills we had honed over many years: an unfortunate necessity of our lifestyle, but one I was now glad we had some practice with.

"I'm hungry," Hamish said. "I want some meat and potatoes with gravy, some stew with bread fresh from the oven and melted butter and some-"

"Aye," I said. "But first, what's it to be? This tavern is sure to be...

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Verlag
HQN
Erscheinungsdatum
2014
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373778333
ISBN 13 
9780373778331
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
368
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
HarperCollins Publishers, Product Safety Manager
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

HarperCollins, Macken House, 39/40 Mayor Street Upper
Dublin 1
D01 C9W8
Irland