Highland Awakening (21 page)

Many thanks to Sue Grimshaw and everyone at Random House who assisted with the production of this book. Thanks to Kate McKinley, who helps me in more ways than I can list. And thanks to my family, especially my husband, who has supported me without fail since the moment I started writing.

A Highlander's Heart

Highland Heat

Highland Awakening

Highland Temptation
(coming soon)

PHOTO
:
RENEE
BOWEN

USA Today
bestselling author
J
ENNIFER
H
AYMORE
is the author of sexy historical and contemporary romance. Her books have been nominated for numerous awards, including five RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice awards and the prestigious RITA
^®
award for best historical romance. You can find Jennifer Haymore in Southern California trying to talk her husband into yet another trip to England, helping her three children with homework while brainstorming a new five-minute dinner menu, or crouched in a corner of the local bookstore writing her next novel.

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March into romance this month with Loveswept—snuggle up with your e-reader and our new books to escape the chill of those cold winter nights.

Who doesn't love naked men? In Christi Barth's
Risking It All,
friends bonded by tragedy fight for their future with strong and sassy women. In
New York Times
bestselling author Tracy Wolff's
Lovegame,
a damaged starlet bares her soul—and falls for the one man who cares enough to listen. Speaking of games,
New York Times
bestselling author Violet Duke kicks off her sizzling-hot new Fourth Down series with a friends-to-lovers romance between a no-strings-attached sports analyst and the hottest damn tomboy he's ever met, in
Jackson's Trust.
As Sawyer Bennett's
New York Times
bestselling Cold Fury series continues with
Hawke,
the league's most notorious party animal gets blindsided by the one that got away. The world of extreme sports just got a little steamier in Zoe Dawson's
Ramping Up.
Second chances are sweeter than ever for a reformed bully who's more than just a jock in Charlotte Stein's next installment of the steamy Dark Obsession series,
Never Sweeter.
And Shana Gray's provocative new novel features a resilient fighter going round for tantalizing round with the one that got away in
After the Hurt.

For history fans, the Highland Knights series continues with a tight-knit band of Scottish mercenaries in
USA Today
bestselling author Jennifer Haymore's
Highland Awakening
. Don't miss the first book in
USA Today
bestselling author Ashlyn Macnamara's charming new regency romance trilogy,
To Lure a Proper Lady.

And for those contemporary romance fans, there's a new voice in romance you won't want to miss—A. M. Madden—who cleans up the city streets in the first book in her new True Heroes series,
Stone Walls,
featuring hot alpha men on the NYPD force.
New York Times
bestselling author Marquita Valentine ratchets up the tension as new beginnings lead to undeniable passion in
After We Fall.
And in
Resist,
a sizzling novel from
New York Times
bestselling author Missy Johnson, a young journalist goes undercover in a world of desire.

I'm sad to say it's over…but it's not
over
over, as there is a bouquet of beautiful romances awaiting you in April!

Until next month—Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

by Jennifer Haymore

Available from Loveswept

“There've been whispers in Town,” Major Campbell, the leader of the Highland Knights, said. “Rumors we'll be needing to pay attention to.”

It was late—after midnight—and everyone in the household but the major and Sir Colin Stirling had already gone to bed. Colin and the major sat in the drawing room of the Knights' Westminster townhouse, the room that in the past year and a half had become the place where they gathered almost every day to converse, speak of business, or simply relax together. It had become the one place where Colin could almost feel safe.

Colin leaned back in his chair, his thumb running over the cool lip of his whisky glass. “Aye, I ken.”

“Have you heard anything?”

“Nay. But…” Colin shook his head. Born and raised in the Scottish Highlands, he was somewhat of a superstitious man, and he simply
felt
things sometimes. He had sensed these rumors, these angry, inflaming whispers, growing in intensity over the last month or two, at various events he'd attended in London. He didn't know the source of them, or even the topic, but…“I've felt them,” he finished.

The major was never one to question Colin—and thank God for that, because if he did he would have sent Colin off to Bedlam months ago. He tapped speculative fingers on his knee. “I havena spoken to the others because we havena enough information, or an inkling of what to do about all this talk—or even if anything needs to be done. But I dinna like it.” Major Campbell pushed a rough hand through his thick russet-brown hair.

“Neither do I,” Colin agreed. “What, exactly, have you been hearing?”

“Rumblings about the Regent and his lack of decency. Complaints that he's an embarrassment to the populace.”

Colin pressed his lips together. The Prince Regent would never be his favorite royal, but he would be king someday, and Colin wasn't one to criticize a man who'd someday be his liege lord.

“Whispers that the entire House of Hanover possesses the same flaw that caused King George III's madness, and the entire family is soon to go the way of the king, frothing at the mouth and speaking nonsense.” The major's lips twisted. “ 'Tis being said we're all doomed if we continue to hail the Hanovers as our monarchs.”

Colin ground his teeth. This felt like a subtle, insidious attempt to undermine the monarchy. “Feels to me like a tumor on the general unrest and massive demand for parliamentary reform. Little lies like this can only fester and grow.”

The major sighed.

“Someone is responsible for starting these rumors, and for disseminating them. Who is it?” Colin asked.

“That's what we dinna ken. And I think we need to find out,” the major said.

“Laurent would be the one for that, don't you think?”

Laurent Dupré was the youngest and newest member of the Highland Knights. The dark-haired French lad was the only one of them who wasn't a Highlander and who didn't have a background in the army. After losing two men—one to murder and one to treachery—the Highland Knights' membership was back up to seven. A good number, in Colin's opinion. But they were continuing to grow in other ways, too—four of the knights were now married.

While the Highland Knights were becoming known throughout the kingdom as defenders of the Crown, they'd kept Laurent Dupré's membership a closely guarded secret for the past few months. Trained as an English spy since he was a wee lad, Laurent had perfected the art of slipping in and out of conversations and collecting peoples' secrets without being suspected. His ability to pass without notice was in direct contrast to the rest of the Knights—all large and intimidating kilt-wearing Highland warriors who couldn't enter a building without everyone inside immediately noting their presence.

The major nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, you're right. Mayhap Laurent's first major assignment should be to investigate the source of these grumblings.” He took a deep swallow of his whisky. “I could be wrong,” he said after a moment. “It could be nothing. Just malicious whispers, aye? People never stop complaining, even in the best of times.”

“Aye,” Colin agreed mildly. But his gut told him otherwise.

The major sighed and set down his glass. “Well, Claire is waiting. I'm to bed.”

Colin swallowed down the instant panic that overtook him and nodded. “Me, too.”

The two men rose, Colin clenching his fists at his sides. The major would go to his room, where his wife, Lady Claire, awaited him. A warm body. Comfort. Love. Colin was headed to his own bed, where he'd find nothing but coldness and darkness, and his demons. This was the time of day he dreaded the most—when he'd be left alone to fend for himself. To fight off the demons that haunted him every single damn night.

The major had been forced to chase away Colin's demons a few times, which was a few times more than Colin liked. It was humiliating, what they did to him. How they reduced him to something less than a man.

Taking up the lantern, the major opened the door, and the two of them stepped into the corridor and turned toward the stairway that led to the first floor and their bedchambers. But just then, a sound drew them both to a sudden halt. A pounding on the front door.

The major looked back over his shoulder at Colin, his brows raised. “What the hell?”

It wasn't right that Colin should be relieved by this—something that, at this hour, couldn't mean anything good. But it would delay him from his bed awhile longer, and therefore he was grateful for it.

He and the major swiveled and strode quickly to the front door. The knocking was louder now; it was as if someone was pounding with two hands flat on the smooth wood surface. Colin reached the door first. He gripped the handle and wrenched it open.

It was a woman—that much was apparent immediately by her flowing garments. It took a second for Colin's eyes to adjust to the dimness, but then the lantern the major held splashed a beam of yellow light over her.

Colin took in wild curls, a roundish face, big blue eyes. And blood streaked across the fabric of her white dress. Smeared across her cheek.

He knew this lass. His heart began to beat painfully against his breastbone. “Lady Emilia?”

The woman released a great sob and threw herself at him. He stumbled back a foot before he regained his balance, his arm coming around her to hold her steady. “Oh, Sir Colin, thank God.” She wept into his chest, her fingers curling tightly into his shirt. “Please help me. Please!”

The major had stepped outside and scanned the street as Colin awkwardly patted Lady Emilia's back, cursing his body at its flare of awareness of her body pressed against his. He'd admired Lady Emilia from afar for a long time now, ever since the Highland Knights had been assigned the task of guarding her father, Lord Pinfield. Who, as it happened, was a complete bastard, and Colin had been more than a little relieved when that assignment had ended.

Evidently finding nothing of consequence, the major returned and closed the door behind him.

“Come,” Colin said, as gently as he could to the sobbing woman in his arms. “We'll go to the drawing room, and you can tell us what happened.”

She pulled back slightly and seemed to try to gather herself, but her breaths were coming in great heaves, and tears streamed incessantly down her cheeks, streaking through the blood that made Colin's own blood run cold.

“Yes,” she managed. “All right.”

Keeping his arm around her to hold her trembling frame steady, Colin led her back down the corridor to the drawing room, noticing her halting steps and her grimaces of pain as she walked. What the hell had happened to the poor lass?

Colin directed her to sit on the sofa when they entered the drawing room, and she complied, gingerly sitting on the edge. Colin sat beside her.

“Are you injured, milady?” the major asked.

Lady Emilia just stared down at her lap, her shoulders heaving. The major's lips tightened. “I'll fetch Claire,” he said, and Colin nodded, sensing another woman's presence might help. Plus, if Emilia was hurt, Claire could assess her injuries and treat them.

The door closed softly behind the major, and Colin sat, chewing his lip. He didn't know what to do. He'd never encountered a woman in this state, and seeing this particular woman in distress made something dark and angry swirl within him. He wanted to go find the person who'd done this to her and kill him. Slowly and painfully.

Gently, he grasped a wild curl that had fallen over her face between two fingers and tucked it behind her ear. Then he took her hand— Goddamn, it was cold, like a small block of ice. He chafed it, trying to infuse some warmth into it. Emilia allowed him to touch her, to move her hand, but she didn't look at him; she kept staring down at her lap. He knew she was still crying, because her shoulders heaved and tears dripped with hot splashes onto his hands.

“Shh, lass,” he murmured. “You're safe now. I promise. You're safe.”

She didn't respond. She seemed frozen in her misery. Still chafing her hands—first one, then the other—he looked her over, trying to find the source of the blood.

It wasn't difficult to find. Her lower back was soaked with red, the color shocking in its brightness against the stark white of her dress. Colin ground his teeth. She was still bleeding.

He couldn't help himself. “Damn it, Emilia,” he said, his voice so raw it ached. “Who did this to you?”

For the first time since he'd opened the front door, she looked at him, her eyes wide, their gray-blue depths fathomless. A tear crested at one of the bottom lids and slid down her blotchy face.

“It was my father,” she whispered.