Cassandra choked, sputtering. "You could make yourself presentable for me. A gentleman... Well, I— Papa!" Her garbled scoldings vanished in a vexed cry. "What on earth have you done now!" Accusation was edged with worry.
Aidan frowned, confused. "I don't have the slightest idea."
"Your eye! Don't even attempt to tell me you ran into a stable door again, for I shan't believe it! Tell me you haven't been indulging in fisticuffs at that awful boxing salon again!"
"I haven't even been to London!" He raised his fingers sheepishly to the place Stasia had bruised him and groped for a plausible lie. "When I was riding out of the city, I was set upon by… by a pair of brigands who tried to relieve me of my purse."
"Brigands? Oh, Papa!"
"Yes, there must have been four big, burly fellows." Aidan paced to the window overlooking the castle drive, warming to his story.
"I thought you said 'a pair.'"
"Well, I was much confused. It was dark, and after all, I'd taken the devil of a blow to my head." Aidan paused, nearly sighing in relief as a reprieve came in an unexpected form, that of a coach rumbling toward the castle.
"It seems as if I will have to regale you of my adventure some other time," he said, tugging at Cassandra's curls. "My gift seems to be coming up the drive."
"What?"
"The coach!" Aidan said with diabolical glee. "I'll beat you to the door!"
With a squawk, Cass started to dart out ahead of him. Aidan caught a handful of her dressing gown, reeling her in. "Cassandra Victorine Kane, you are still in your nightgown. A young lady shouldn't parade in front of the servants en dishabille."
"I won't if you'll wait for me! Papa! Papa, no!"
Aidan had never been able to resist teasing her. He raced down the stairs, making a deafening racket, while he heard Cassandra scrambling to get dressed. He had no intention of spoiling her surprise, of course, fully planning to wait for her in the grand entry to Rathcannon. But at that instant the door flew open, revealing the face of Rathcannon's coachman, Sean O'Day, the burly Irishman looking as distraught as if he had just set fire to the stables. Ashen faced, he railed at the footman, Calvy Sipes.
"Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph, you won't believe what Miss Cass has done. The master is going to flay the hide off every one of us, and I vow I'll hand him the knife to do it with!"
Aidan stepped into the coachman's line of vision, and Sean looked as if he was about to be judged at the seat of Lucifer himself. "Come now, man, don't be so hard on the girl!" Aidan soothed. "I promise not to resort to violence unless I'm severely provoked."
O'Day's eyes grew wild as he looked at Aidan, his big hands clutching at the front of his travel-dusty livery. "Sir. Oh, sir," he mourned, "I was hopin' you weren't here yet. That there'd be time to fix things somehow. But we wouldn't be able to right this in a hundred years! You have to believe me, sir, I had no idea what Miss Cass was about or she couldn't 'a dragged me off to Dublin bound with chains! But if I hadn't gone, what would have become of her? Didn't know what the divil to do once I had her. Didn't dare to tell her..."
"Tell who what?"
O'Day blinked, looking even more dazed. "Why, the lady, sir! There she was, standin' at the dock plain as the wart on Cadagon's nose, with a letter in her hand and her thinking you wrote it. But I knew the truth the minute I saw it."
O'Day's rattling was stirring up the dregs of gin in Aidan's head, starting a painful throb in the base of his skull. "You're blathering like a half-wit!" Aidan bit out. "Just tell me what mischief the girl has kicked up, and we'll sort it out somehow. You're acting as if she committed murder, for heaven's sake!"
"It's you who might be tempted to murder, Sir Aidan, when you see what lurks out there!" O'Day waved toward the open door, as if some horrendous monster was beyond it, waiting to devour them.
Fists on hips, Aidan stalked to the threshold, glaring out at the scene before him. Slivers of light drove beneath his burning eyelids, and he swore, rubbing his fingers impatiently across his suddenly blurry gaze.
He didn't have the slightest idea what he expected to see as the mist cleared from his vision-- the hounds of hell tied to the coach wheels, a tribe of gypsies setting up camp on the front lawn, or the horsemen of the Apocalypse kicking up their hooves in an effort to separate old Cadagon's few remaining teeth from his gums.
However, one thing Aidan didn't expect to see was a footman unloading a spanking new trunk, while a lone woman stood beside the coach, looking on.
Aidan took in wide brown eyes, dusky curls peeking out about a heart-shaped face that looked rather pale under the shelter of a bonnet brim. A rich blue pelisse that should have seemed the height of fashion and elegance flowed about her slender figure, but instead of setting her charms off to advantage, the garment made the woman look, for all the world, like a girl caught dressing up in her mother's finery.
Even the object in her arms seemed designed to accentuate that impression, for she was holding onto a child's doll with white-knuckled fingers.
Yet when she looked up at him, there was something about her--that stiff-necked English propriety, that sense of control--that had always set his teeth on edge. His face twisted into a scowl as he stalked down the stairs.
"What the blazes is going on here! The coachman's raving like a Bedlamite!"
The woman raised her dark eyes to his, and Aidan was surprised as they were transformed into a rare loveliness by her nervous smile. "He's been acting quite strange since the moment I met him. As if there is some sort of--of confusion. If you could just take me to your master, I'm certain it can all be untangled."
"My master?" Aidan echoed.
"Yes. I'm looking for Sir Aidan Kane, of Rathcannon Castle. If you could find him for me?"
He eyed her warily. "What the devil do you want him for?"
Color flooded her cheeks. "It's a personal matter, rather difficult to explain. But I can assure you, he's expecting me."
"The devil he is! I mean, the devil I am. I'm Kane."
She seemed dismayed, and Aidan was aware that he looked like absolute hell.
"Who the blazes are you?" He cursed himself, unable to keep his hand from creeping up in an instinctive effort to straighten his tousled hair.
"I'm Norah Linton." She looked at him as if the name should explain everything. But Aidan just watched her, tension coiling at the back of his neck.
"I answered your letter of advertisement," she stammered out. "The one you intended to place in the London Times."
Aidan folded his arms over his chest in challenge. "I never entered any advertisement."
Disbelief streaked across features that were far too waif-like for beauty. "But of course you did. I have your letter right here in my reticule, and you arranged my passage from England."
"I didn't arrange a damn thing!"
At that moment, a whirlwind of tumbled curls and sweet muslin frock bolted out the door, Cassandra still fastening the buttons at her throat.
"Miss Linton!" Cassandra cried, rushing up to the woman, beaming. "I'm Cassandra. It's so wonderful to meet you at last!"
The Englishwoman looked astonished.
"Cassandra? But I thought..." A flush stained her cheeks. She looked down at the plaything in her hand.
"You thought I was younger, didn't you?" Cassandra smiled as she looked down at the miniature lady rigged out in primrose-hued satin. "Did you bring this for me?"
Aidan gaped as his daughter-- of late so determined to guard her dignity-- reached out to accept the toy then stroked the doll's tiny feathered bonnet. "It's adorable! I shall save it for when I have a little sis... ahem!" She dissolved into a fit of theatrical coughing.
"You know this woman?" Aidan interrupted, pinning his daughter with a glare. What he saw made his stomach knot. "Cassandra, what is this? Some sort of joke?"
"Joke?" What little color had stained the woman's cheeks drained away. "You can't mean you had no idea...."
"It's not a joke, Papa," Cassandra sa
id, linking her arm through that of the stunned Englishwoman. "Miss Linton is the present I told you about."
"My present?" Aidan choked out, casting a wild glance from his daughter to the woman standing in his carriage circle. "What the devil is she supposed to be? A maid servant? A governess?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Papa." Cassandra laughed. "You don't need a governess."
"You drag some strange woman from who knows where, and tell me she's my present, and then say I'm being ridiculous?" He sucked in a deep breath, battling for inner balance. He knew damn well he shouldn't ask the question Cassandra was so obviously anticipating, but he couldn't help himself.
"If I don't need a governess, what in the blazes do I need?"
The girl who was the mirror image of Delia raised her chin with a pure Kane recklessness that always presaged disaster.
"What you need is a wife."
BUY THE BOOK: STEALING HEAVEN
CELTIC ROGUES ~ the series
HER MAGIC TOUCH (formerly MAGIC)
BRIAR ROSE
STEALING HEAVEN
LILY FAIR
About the Author
KIMBERLY CATES
When Kimberly Cates was in third grade she informed her teacher that she didn't need to learn multiplication tables. She was going to be a writer when she grew up. Kimberly filled countless spiral notebooks with stories until, at age twenty-five, she received a birthday gift that changed her life: an electric typewriter. Kimberly wrote her first historical romance, sold it to Berkley Jove, and embarked on a thirty-year career as an author. Called “a master of the genre” by Romantic Times, her thirty-three bestselling, award-winning novels are noted for their endearing characters, emotional impact and their ability to transport the reader to the mists and magic of the British Isles.
Kimberly has also penned historical romances as Kimberleigh Caitlin and contemporary romances under the pseudonyms Kimberly Cates and Kim Cates.
She writes historical fiction as Ella March Chase. Her titles include:
THE VIRGIN QUEEN’S DAUGHTER, THREE MAIDS FOR A CROWN and THE QUEEN’S DWARF.
A graduate of Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois, she spends her free time reading, hiking and continuing her quest to find a recipe for the perfect scone. Her favorite activity, however, is playing dragon with her grandchildren whose imaginations never fail to amaze her.
Kimberly loves to hear from her readers. She invites you to find her on her Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KimberlyCatesBooks where she posts interesting historical tidbits, on Twitter— Kimberly Cates Twitter or ellamarchchase@ellamarchchase and on her websites:
KimberlyCatesBooks.com
Ella March Chase.com
I’d love to have you take a peek at my Pinterest boards— there will be one for each of my books!
PINTEREST
HISTORICAL ROMANCE:
THE CELTIC ROGUES SERIES:
BLACK FALCON’S LADY (formerly NIGHTWYLDE under the pseudonym Kimberleigh Caitlin)
HER MAGIC TOUCH (formerly MAGIC)
BRIAR ROSE
STEALING HEAVEN
LILY FAIR
THE CULLODEN’S FIRE SERIES
Kimberly Cates’ unforgettable CULLODEN’S FIRE series:
1. GATHER THE STARS (Gavin & Rachel)
2. ANGEL’S FALL (Adam & Juliet)
3. CROWN OF DREAMS (Myles & Devlin)
4. CROWN OF MIST (Creighton & Brianna)
COMING SOON!
THE RAIDER’S BRIDE
THE RAIDER’S DAUGHTER
HISTORICAL FICTION: KIMBERLY CATES WRITING AS ELLA MARCH CHASE
THE QUEEN’S DWARF by Ella March Chase
THE VIRGIN QUEEN’S DAUGHTER by Ella March Chase
THREE MAIDS FOR A CROWN: A STORY OF THE GREY SISTERS by Ella March Chase
Also by Kimberly Cates
Historical Romance:
CELTIC ROGUES ~ THE SERIES
BLACK FALCON’S LADY by Kimberly Cates
HER MAGIC TOUCH by Kimberly Cates
BRIAR ROSE by Kimberly Cates
STEALING HEAVEN by Kimberly Cates
LILY FAIR by Kimberly Cates
CULLODEN’S FIRE ~ THE SERIES
GATHER THE STARS by Kimberly Cates
ANGEL’S FALL by Kimberly Cates
CROWN OF DREAMS by Kimberly Cates
CROWN OF MIST by Kimberly Cates
COMING SOON!
The Raider’s Bride
The Raider’s Daughter
FUTURE RELEASES:
To Catch a Flame
Wildwitch
Morning Song
Only Forever
Restless is the Wind
Sky of Ashes, Sea of Flames
Contemporary Romance:
Fly Away Home
Historical Fiction:
THE QUEEN’S DWARF by Ella March Chase
THE VIRGIN QUEEN’S DAUGHTER by Ella March Chase
THREE MAIDS FOR A CROWN: a story of the Grey sisters by Ella March Chase
Copyright © 2015 by Kim Ostrom
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Kimberly Cates, Black Falcon's Lady
(Series: # )
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