The Scottish Lord
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Two Hearts Beyond Control …
Frances Stewart was the most stunning beauty of the London season, with every noble gallant at her beck and call and the most eligible lord in the realm, Sir Robert Sedburgh, begging for her hand.
Lord Ian Macdonald was the most headstrong and arrogant young blade ever to sneer at society’s strictures and to scorn caution’s advice in his reckless pursuit of his own desires.
As fate would have it (no one else would dare recommend such as unsettling alliance), these two paragons of pride came together. And as all of Regency society held its breath, first a few discomfiting sparks flew, and then the explosion came …
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Joan Wolf is a USA TODAY bestselling author, whose acclaimed Regency romances have earned her national recognition as a master of the genre. Her many historical and contemporary romances have been highly praised by reviewers and authors alike. Publisher's Weekly reviewed one of her novels as "historical fiction at its finest." Joan was born in New York City but has lived most of her life in Connecticut with her husband, two children and numerous pets. An avid rider and horse owner, she enjoys featuring horses in her novels.
in a much better humor afterwards and spent a pleasant hour sparring with the great Jackson himself. That worthy had been anxious to discover who Ian’s teacher had been. “I learned from a book,” said Ian laconically and with perfect truth. “Then I practiced with the crofter’s lads back home. Now, they are tough.” He looked scornfully at the flower of English manhood assembled around him that morning. “I’d like to meet some of those lads,” said Jackson. “They’d like fine to meet you,” returned
striking a few notes, she began to sing. The song had all the power of the great ballads and her voice was marvelous: deep and clear and perfectly controlled. As the last note died away there was a sigh in the room, as if a great collective breath had been let out. The faintest, briefest glint of recognition showed in Frances’s eyes, and then she sang another. When she had finished and started to get up Robert Sedburgh said quietly, “You would please us all if you would sing one more, Miss
to say it. She’s the image of my father, I know. She looks more like him every year. It’s positively uncanny.” Nell took two steps toward Ian. “Are you a pirate?” she inquired in her clear child’s voice. Ian suddenly grinned. “No. Do I look like a pirate to you?” Nell smiled back. “Yes. You look just like the pirate in a book my Poppy gave me. But you need a patch over your eye.” “Where is Poppy?” Frances put in before Ian could answer. “I thought he took you to Arthur’s Seat with him.” “He
tomorrow at the earliest she was not concerned. She let her maid brush her hair and help her undress and then dismissed her for the night. After the door closed behind the maid, Frances was drawn irresistibly to the window. Ever since childhood she had loved to listen to the rain at night. On impulse she threw open the window and shivered as the cool, wet air poured into the room. She got her warm robe from the wardrobe and pulled a chair around so it was only a few feet away from the window.
Scotland with the ten o’clock tide. Ian did not return to Mount Street until nine the following morning. His butler met him with the news that Lady Lochaber had departed. She had left him a note. Ian went into the library and tore open the envelope. There were exactly three sentences, for him to read. “I have gone home to Scotland. Margaret insisted on coming with me. I have taken Nell. Frances.” Ian was still sitting in the library at one o’clock in the afternoon when his butler announced the