Can a reluctant hero save a runaway princess without losing his own heart?
Adam McKendrick has earned the title “the
Bountiful Baron” because of his reputation for helping beautiful blondes in
trouble. When a lucky hand at cards wins him an ancient hunting lodge, he
travels to the wilds of Scotland hoping to escape his reputation—and the hordes
of women pursuing him. He certainly doesn’t expect his prize to include yet
another damsel in distress looking for a hero.
Princess Giana has fled her kingdom—and the
deadly assassins pursuing her—with only a handful of loyal staff to protect
her. When the gorgeous gambler shows up at her refuge to claim his winnings,
she has no choice but to pose as his maid.
Adam’s clumsy—yet stunningly beautiful—new
maid seems more inclined to give orders than to take them. He finds her both
infuriating and irresistible. As his desire for Giana’s touch begins to consume
him, Adam must decide if he wants to once again play the hero…or the rogue…
EXCERPT
In this scene our intrepid hero arrives at his Scottish hunting lodge
to meet his new staff, never expecting to find a runaway princess in his bed…
Adam shivered as a gust of wind blew across the lawn, but he managed to
fit the front door key into the lock. He was wet, cold, and thoroughly road
weary and had spent the last few miles of the journey looking forward to a roaring
fire, a hot meal, and a bed.
“I know you’re in there.” He lifted his hand to bang on the door once
again. “Open up!” Adam shouted one final warning, then turned the key in the
lock and pushed open the door.
The door flew open, crashing against the interior wall with a thud that
shook the frame. The key bounced out of the lock and skidded across the marble
entry while a man and a woman dressed in nightclothes leapt back to avoid the
torrent of cold rain. Adam stepped over the threshold, grabbed hold of the
front door, and slammed it shut.
He leaned his back against it, breathing heavily as he removed his hat
and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m Adam McKendrick.” Adam dropped his
hat on the marble-topped table in the entry hall and offered his hand to the
other man. “You must be Gordon Ross.”
The older man retreated, shaking his head as he stepped away from Adam’s
outstretched hand.
Adam withdrew his hand and frowned. “Then, who?”
The woman stepped forward, responding with the answer to Adam’s
question before the man could form a response. “Staff,” she replied in a thick
Scottish burr. “I’m Isobel Langstrom and this is my husband, Albert. We’re part
of the staff.”
“Staff...” Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” He removed his
mackintosh, shaking the water from the folds as he glanced around for a place
to hang it.
Albert took the coat from him.
“Thank you.” Adam left the couple standing in the foyer and started up
the staircase. He took the stairs two at a time. “I’ve been traveling all day.
I’m wet, cold, and tired. I’d like a roaring fire and a soft bed as soon as
possible. And please see that my horse is tended to right away.” Pausing at the
top of the landing, he asked, “Where’s the master suite?”
“Last one on the left,” Isobel replied automatically, “but, my lord…wait…”
She started up the stairs behind
him.
Adam waved her off. “No need to show me,” he said. “I’ll find it.”
He heard the low noise and recognized it as a warning growl seconds
before he opened the door of the master suite. “What the devil—” The air left
Adam’s lungs in a rush and a series of white-hot stars danced against a black
background as the base of his skull thudded against the hard floor.
He couldn’t see his attacker until he was flat on his back with a
hundred plus pounds of a massive animal—an ugly shaggy-coated brute that
appeared to be some sort of missing link—a cross between a dog and a Shetland
pony—standing on his chest. The soft glow of the lamplight illuminated the brindle-colored
fur on the dog’s legs and the white fur of his underbelly. A flash of light
sparkled off the dog’s neck, and Adam realized he was staring at a black velvet
collar trimmed with gold braid and studded with what appeared to be paste
diamonds. He lifted his head to get a better look, and the dog growled another
warning.
“Wagner! Cease!”
The beast was obedient, responding immediately to the command.
Unfortunately, he responded instantly by lying down. Adam’s head connected with
the floor once more. He let out a groan and another whoosh of air as the dog’s
elbows pressed against his stomach.
“Wagner, you may have killed him!”
The animal whined at the rebuke, shifting his weight as he buried his
nose in the hollow beneath Adam’s left ear and his elbows deeper into Adam’s
ribs.
“Not quite.” Adam gasped the words.
“Good,” his rescuer breathed. “You are alive.”
Blinking hard to clear the stars from his eyes, Adam looked up and
beheld his savior standing in the center of the bed. He groaned again, this
time in abject disappointment. His savior was blond and beautiful and female,
and if the length of her legs was anything to go by, very nearly tall enough to
look him in the eye. Her body, silhouetted through her long white nightgown by
the light from the table lamp behind her, was slim and curved in all the right
places. A thick rope of tightly braided hair hung past her hips and she bore
the delicate, classical facial features that had graced the canvases of great
painters for centuries. He couldn’t see her feet, buried as they were in the
mound of bedclothes, but he supposed they were as classically beautiful as the
rest of her.
“What the hell is this? Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in
my bed?”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Wagner is one of the finest wolfhounds ever
bred, and I am Her Ser—” she began in a haughty tone that set Adam’s teeth on
edge.
“Our daughter!” The shout echoed through the room, covering whatever it
was the girl was about to say.
Adam turned his head in time to see Isobel rush through the doorway. He
looked from Isobel to the Amazon standing on the bed. The top of Isobel’s head
was several inches below his chin, and Albert was only an inch or so taller
than his wife. “Your daughter!” Adam’s
tone of voice held a healthy measure of disbelief.
“Yes,” Isobel and Albert nodded in unison. “Our daughter, Georgiana
Langstrom.” Isobel turned to the girl. “Georgiana, meet Mr. Adam McKendrick
from America, the new owner of Larchmont Lodge.”
“How do you do, Mr. McKendrick?” she dutifully replied.
He stared at her as she extended her hand with the grace of a prima
ballerina and waited patiently for him to take it. Adam rolled his eyes. Beauty
appeared to hold an entitlement all its own. His sister, Kirstin, would have
responded in exactly the same manner. All the world was a stage—populated by blondes
aspiring to be great tragediennes. Adam didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry,
to shake hands with her or crawl to his knees and pay homage.
He settled for indignation. “How do I do? How do I do?” He sputtered. “I’m
lying flat on my back in the middle of the floor with a hundred-pound dog on my
chest. How do you think I do?”
“Rude.” Georgiana narrowed her gaze at him. “And there’s no need to be
rude, Mr. McKendrick.”
“Really?” He tried to shove the dog off him, but the beast refused to
budge. “I can think of a dozen reasons—beginning with him.” He glared at the
wolfhound.
“Wagner!
Off!” She pointed to the dog, then patted her thigh. “Come!”
Wagner obeyed, first by standing on Adam, then stepping over him in
order to hurry to his mistress’s side.
Adam pushed himself to his feet.
Wagner growled in warning once again and Adam growled back.
Georgiana clucked her tongue at him. “‘Manners make the man,’” she quoted.
“William of Wykeham.”
“‘She speaks, yet she says nothing,’” he retorted. “William
Shakespeare.” Adam smiled. “And if we’ve concluded this war of quotations, I’ll
take the opportunity to remind you that you haven’t answered my question.”
“What question was that, Mr. McKendrick?” Georgiana pretended
ignorance.
“What are you doing in my bed?”
“We didn’t know when to expect you, sir,” Isobel hastened to explain. “The
attic quarters need cleaning and repair and the beds are short and narrow…” She
sighed. “And, as you can see, our Giana is taller than most girls. So tall that
her feet hang off the mattresses.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But the master suite
has a huge bed, and we saw no harm in allowing her to sleep in comfort until
you arrived. If that has offended you, then I beg your pardon, sir.”
“You must not blame my parents for wanting to provide the best for me,”
Giana told him.
“Why not?” Adam lifted an eyebrow in query.
Giana smiled her most angelic smile and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“To do otherwise would be against their nature.”
The smile and the fluttering lashes almost worked, but Adam had been
raised in a household of consummate actresses. Wheedling and coy feminine wiles
no longer had the power to sway him. Especially when he sensed that employing
them wasn’t part of the Amazon’s nature. He liked her better when she
challenged him. “Is its size the only reason you happened to be in my bed?”
Giana blinked. “What other reason could there be?”
“I’m a very wealthy man,” Adam said.
“How very nice for you,” Giana politely replied.
Adam inhaled sharply, swallowed his breath, and began to cough.
Giana waited patiently for him to recover from his fit of coughing. She
stared at him with an expectant look on her face.
“I’m also young and healthy.”
“Then you are to be congratulated, Mr. McKendrick, for I understand
that Scotland can be a very harsh land. You are very fortunate to have youth
and health on your side, for one cannot overestimate their importance. I feel
quite certain that those qualities will go a long way in alleviating the
hardships one encounters here.”
Adam was fascinated by the words that came out of her mouth each time
she spoke. Her words sounded like English, but he couldn’t quite grasp the
meaning. Nor did she appear to grasp the meaning of his. Maybe it was because
he was American and she was…well…foreign. But the Amazon couldn’t take a hint.
“I’m also generally considered to be reasonably attractive,” he
informed her.
She cocked her head to one side and studied him. “I do not agree.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I do
not.” She sighed. “I do not wish to find fault with the opinions of the people
who have commented on your appearance, but I would have to say that you are
more than reasonably attractive—”
Adam grinned. “More?”
“Of course,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I have only just made your
acquaintance, and know nothing of your character, but I would judge your
outward appearance to be very attractive.”
“Is that so?” Adam gave her a slow, appraising glance.
“Yes, Mr. McKendrick, it is so.” She frowned, unable to understand why
he insisted on questioning her answers or why he appeared to have difficulty
understanding her English. Although it was not her native tongue, Giana knew
her command of the English language was exceptional because her mother had taught
her to speak it, and her mother had been a cousin to Queen Victoria.
“You must have been aware that I’m a bachelor.”
“No, Mr. McKendrick, I know nothing of the details of your private
life.” Giana frowned even more.
“What have they to do with me?”
“Let’s see,” Adam drawled sarcastically, raising his hand and
pretending to count on his fingers. “What could the details of my private life
have to do with you?” He paused for effect. “Especially since I’m young,
healthy, wealthy, and reasonably—no, make that very—attractive, unmarried, and the owner of the bed you’re
currently occupying.” He looked up at her. “I would have to be extremely unenlightened
not to realize that, in most circles, I’m considered to be quite a catch.”
“In most circles, perhaps,” Giana informed him. “But not in mine.”
Adam cocked an eyebrow once again. “Indeed?” He’d have to be an
extremely unenlightened man not to realize that the daughter of his new
housekeeper and butler had just declared her circle closed to him.
Adam had deliberately baited her, but her answer still stung, and Adam
didn’t know whether to find the idea amusing or pathetic.
Isobel stepped forward. “Come, Giana, we’ll leave the McKendrick to
settle in here while we find you another bed.”
“Wait.” Adam glanced from mother to daughter. “Tell me what you’ve
heard about the Bountiful Baron?”
Isobel was clearly puzzled by the demand. “I don’t understand.”
Adam turned to Giana. “What about you?”
Giana lifted her chin. “That baron is not among my acquaintances.”
“Then you can stay where you are,” he said. “For tonight. But tomorrow
you and the dog find someplace else to sleep.” Adam lifted his chin and gave
her his most winning smile. “You’re welcome to sleep indoors, but fancy collar
or no, the dog sleeps outside.”
Giana glared at him, her nostrils flaring in anger. “You cannot…” she
sputtered.
He grinned. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I outrank you. You may be tall, but
I’m taller and I own the place.” Adam turned his back on Giana and headed for
the bedroom door.
The other occupants of the room gasped.
“What?” Adam paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at the
Amazon standing in the center of his bed. Her mouth gaped open, and he noticed
for the first time that the ribbons threaded through the neckline of her
nightgown were black and untied.
Giana was stunned. She knew, even if he did not, that he was in the presence
of royalty, and one simply
did not turn one’s back on royalty. Since she could not bring her royal status
to his attention, she settled for chastising him for his rudeness. “Manners,
Mr. McKendrick,” she called out in a too-sweet singsong voice. “Shall we find
you some? Along with your warm fire and comfortable bed? Because you seem to
have forgotten yours again.”
“Not at all.” Adam put his thumb and forefinger up to his forehead, inclined his head, and pretended to tip his hat to her. “Pleasure meeting you, George.”
“Not at all.” Adam put his thumb and forefinger up to his forehead, inclined his head, and pretended to tip his hat to her. “Pleasure meeting you, George.”
Meet Rebecca Hagan Lee
After arming herself with a degree in fine arts and experience in radio, television, and film, Rebecca Hagan Lee wrote her first novel Golden Chances. Since then, she’s published numerous bestselling and award-winning novels and three novellas. She’s won a Waldenbooks Award, a Georgia Romance Writers Maggie Award, several Romantic Times awards, been nominated for an RWA RITA Award, and has been published in nine languages. She currently lives in Georgia with her husband, her two beloved Quarter Horses, and a miniature schnauzer named after literary icon Harper Lee.
Visit Rebecca’s website http://www.rhaganlee.com
Join Rebecca on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/rebeccahaganleeauthor
Her Regency series includes: Ever a Princess, Always a Lady and Once A Mistress. All three are available from Amber House Books.
Her Regency series includes: Ever a Princess, Always a Lady and Once A Mistress. All three are available from Amber House Books.
E.E.: Where did you come up the idea for your Mistresses of the Marquess series?
Rebecca: The idea came from a vision in my head of
George Ramsey, the Marquis of Templeston, fighting to save himself and
his lady friend as his yacht was sinking off the coast of Ireland. I wanted to
know what sort of legacy a man like George would leave behind and how it would
affect his heirs. Then, I decided to follow the legacy through his English son,
Drew, during the Regency period, his Irish son, Christopher "Kit", during
during the early Victorian era, and through his European granddaughter,
Georgiana, during the late Victorian era. I liked the idea of following
George's unconventional family through different circumstances and time
periods.
E.E.: Will you be doing any new American historical romance this year?
Rebecca: Yes. I am working on a new Borrowed Brides book, THE RUNAWAY
BRIDE: ISABEL, which will connect with Giana and Adam from EVER A PRINCESS
through Adam's friend, Murphy O'Brien. The book begins when Murphy finds an
injured Isabel on his doorstep and realizes she's come seeking the Bountiful
Baron.
E.E.: What was the first story you remember writing?
Rebecca: BOBO AND DUCKIE when I was nine.
E.E.: Which movie best represents your writing style?
Rebecca: A WALK IN THE CLOUDS starring Keanu Reeves.
E.E.: Do you
write while listening to music? If so what kind?
Rebecca: I do
listen to music while I'm writing. I can't start a book until I create a
playlist for it. Each book has it's own soundtrack. I prefer lyrics and story
songs, but I listen to a lot of classical music and Broadway, and movie scores.
Whatever strikes my fancy and seems to fit the story line.
E.E. What other sound or noise do you love?
Rebecca: I love the sound of my husband's laughter.
E.E.: Where do you read and how often?
Rebecca: I read on my Nook every night before I go to sleep. I lie in bed and read until I get sleepy or until I finish the book--whichever comes first.
E.E. What’s your favorite cartoon character?
Rebecca: I love the "old" cartoons. Huckleberry Hound, Yogi Bear, Quicksdraw McGraw, Snagglepus, and Foghorn Leghorn. But my absolute favorite is Yosemite Sam--especially when he's the Knight riding the Dragon. "Whoa, I say W-h-o-a dragon...." Then, "Dragons are so stupid."
E.E. Do you have a favorite villain?
Rebecca: Captain Hook from PETER PAN.
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