Stolen Vows Read online

  “I need -”

  “I can deal with things here, sir,” Ross said quickly, and competently, and Roan didn’t really have a leg to stand on. Things were in order, to his quiet astonishment.

  “All right, but I will nae be long,” Roan heard himself mutter as he headed back to the castle to speak to his wife – to tell her that her ex-fiancé was dead.

  Roan could hear his nephew and niece long before he reached the chambers that he shared with his wife. He thought this was because the two youngest were being their usual exuberant selves – this proved partly true, but it also proved true that they were out in the corridors playing.

  “Uncle Roan! Uncle Roan!” the pair squealed in delight the moment that they laid eyes on the new Laird. They bounded up to him excitedly, apparently unaffected by that morning’s gruesome events.

  “What are ye two doing out here?” he frowned, but he let Maeve clamber up his leg and into his arms, while Lachlan bounced around his feet, happily telling his uncle that they’d been playing a game. Lachlan had been the fearless knight and Maeve the helpless damsel, only Maeve pouted about this and insisted that she was, in fact, the dragon.

  “Yer too pretty to be the dragon, petal.” Roan couldn’t help but smile at her upturned face. “But why are ye playing out here and nae in with yer mother and Auntie Isla?”

  “Auntie Isla’s sick,” Roan said simply.

  Roan felt his heart clatter in his chest. “Sick?” he choked, but they’d already reached the door to his room, so he pushed it open hurriedly instead of waiting for further information.

  To his relief, Isla was sitting in a chair by the fire, but Bridghe was flitting around her anxiously. She hurried toward her brother as soon as he entered the room.

  “I - I dinna ken what’s wrong with her,” she stammered nervously as soon as she saw her brother. “We heard the bell chime,” and then Isla looked like she was going to faint. I sat her down in the chair, but she has nae said anything since.”

  “Take them,” Roan grunted, gesturing to the twins. “Let me speak to her alone.”

  “But I -”

  “Go!” Roan commanded, in a voice his sister never usually would have obeyed, but this time she fled the room with her children.

  Roan hurried over to the chair. She didn’t seem to register his appearance. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused as they stared into the fire. Roan reached for one of her hands and held it to his chest.

  “Isla, love?” he whispered, stroking a tender finger over her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered and she finally seemed to notice him. “Isla?” he murmured her name again. He didn’t want to ask her what was wrong; he already knew – Tavish.

  “What happened?”

  Roan almost jumped at the unexpected sound of his wife’s voice. He hadn’t really been prepared for her to respond so soon. Her eyes were on his face, and Roan’s heart shattered when he saw the haunted, broken look in their depths.

  “Isla,” he sighed heavily. “Ye ken what happened,” he said softly, unwilling to recount the details.

  “He’s really gone then?” she whimpered. “Somehow, I - I could nae quite believe that it would actually happen.”

  Roan sighed again, and swept a few stray strands of hair off her face. “Ye ken why it had to happen though, Isla? He could nae be allowed to go unpunished for what he’d done.”

  “I ken that,” she nodded and tried to turn away again, but Roan refused to let her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her still.

  “Ye dinna blame me, do ye?” he asked, his voice truly agonized.

  “What? Nae! Of course I dinna, Roan!” Isla said. “I just - I canna - seem to get my head around it all.”

  “Tell me, talk to me,” Roan urged gently, although he was still reluctant to hear what his wife had to confess.

  Isla licked her lips hesitantly, but then she nodded and whispered: “Sometimes I canna help wondering if it would have been better for everyone concerned if I’d never ran away from Tavish, if I’d just let him have me.” Roan gave a small, stilted nod; he’d known that he wouldn’t like whatever she had to say. “But then - then I think about how, if that had been the case, I’d never have met ye and become yer wife, and I - I’m almost glad that things happened the way they did,” she whispered. “Does that make me a horrible woman?”

  “Nae,” Roan said quickly. “Not unless it makes me a horrible man. I ken that I’ll thank Tavish for the rest of my life for driving ye to me,” he murmured softly, dabbing a kiss against Isla’s lips.

  Isla nodded again, and then threw her arms around Roan’s neck. She burrowed against the hard wall of his chest, feeling a little better just because he was there and he was holding her. At last she was certain that Roan loved her and she finally believed that things were going to get better. The shadow of Tavish was gone forever. She had a home. She had a future. She had Roan.

  “I love ye,” Isla whispered, tucking her head under Roan’s chin. “I never thought I’d ever love a man as much as I love ye,” she sighed, clinging to him tighter. She smiled when she felt his lips brush the crown of her head.

  “I love ye too,” Roan swore softly. “And I intend to spend the rest of my life proving to ye how much.”

  Epilogue

  The air was col and the tips of the leave had just begun to turn colors when Roan and Isla set out from Erchlochy castle in a bona fide carriage.

  Isla was used to riding on horseback or being jostled in a wagon. It felt strange to be walled up, but she was grateful for the shelter. She wouldn’t ordinarily mind the crisp autumn wind, but they were travelling with an important passenger.

  “Do you think that she needs another blanket?” Isla said, shooting an anxious glance down at the squirming baby on her lap.

  Roan shook his head and smiled. “I’m sure that she’s warm as toast,” he reassured his wife, “But she might be more comfortable if ye’d let Grainne hold her.” Beside him, the baby’s wetnurse – a plump woman with a ruddy face and easy smile – grunted her agreement, but but Isla demurred. She had been a mother for less than two months and didn’t relinquish her daughter easily.

  “Suit yerself,” Roan said with a shrug.

  Isla eyed him closely. He was staring down at a book in his hands, but it was hours since he had turned the page. She had the strangest feeling that he was keeping something from her. She couldn’t work out what it was, but there was something suspicious about his alternately mysterious and jovial air.

  Isla stared out of the carriage window trying to work out what was going on, but it wasn’t long before she grew distracted. Watching the familiar landmarks roll past, she couldn’t help but recall when she had made the reverse journey. Her lips twitched in a smile. It was hard to believe that a set of such rash choices had led to such perfect bliss.

  Isla’s suspicions about Roan’s behavior grew when they stopped for lunch and he announced that he intended to ride Fiadhaich for the rest of the way.

  “There isn’t really room in the carriage,” he argued amiably.

  Utter nonsense, Isla thought to herself. Either he didn’t want to ride with her, or he was up to something. She couldn’t work out what that “something” might be, however. After a while, she gave up guessing and concentrated on paying attention to the baby instead. She was surprised when the carriage rolled to a gentle stop. Isla handed the baby to Grainne and popped her head out of the window. She wondered if a horse had thrown a shoe, or if there were some obstruction up ahead.

  In fact, Isla was so lost thought that she failed to realize exactly where they were, until Roan rode Fiadhaich up to her side of the carriage, and shot her a decidedly wicked smile. His wife gasped. She looked up and down the highroad, sure that they couldn’t be there, but they were.

  “Why-?” she squeaked breathlessly.

  Roan chuckled as he swung out of his saddle and opened the carriage door. He held a hand up to his wife and helped her down.

  “Roan? Why are we here?�
�� Isla asked.

  “Because it’s on the road to Castle Cameron?” Roan said innocently.

  “Why have we stopped?” Isla followed up with a nervous laugh.

  “Ah, so you do remember,” Roan said, leaning close. Islaflushed and took a step back, conscious of all the curious eyes that were watching them from their escort.

  “Of course I remember,” she said quickly, looking over to the bank where she had been sitting with a twisted ankle so many months ago. It was the place where Roan had found her.

  “You don’t seem to remember that it was exactly a year ago today.”

  “Today?” Isla blinked in surprise. “Oh Roan-” but she never managed to get past her husband’s name, because he dropped to one knee in front of her.!) “What are you doing?” she squeaked. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was dry.

  “Bridghe assures me that women like these grand displays of love and devotion,” he whispered back. He gave Isla a teasing wink before turning serious. “I always thought that I’d have to ask my wife to marry me. I never imagined that she’d do me the honor of choosing me for herself.”

  “Roan,” Isla breathed his name, her eyes pricking with tears.

  “I want you to know that I do choose you,” he swore ardently, uncoiling the hand that wasn’t clasping Isla’s, to reveal the most beautiful ring that Isla had ever seen. “I know this is somewhat backwards,” he apologized. “But I’ve wanted to give this to you for months. I was just waiting for the perfect moment.”

  Isla couldn’t speak. She could barely even breathe for what felt like a full minute or more. When she did managed to coordinate her mouth and her tongue, the only thing she could do was to stammer her husband’s name again.

  “Does that mean you like it?” Roan asked. He was smiling, but there was a thread of uncertainty in his voice. He caught hold of her left wrist and spread her fingers. In one deft move, he slipped the band of gold, set with a heavy square sapphire, onto her forth digit.

  “Oh Roan- it’s beautiful,” Isla said quietly, admiring the ring as it flashed on her finger. She wiped away happy tears with the back of her other hand. “Is it a family heirloom?”

  Roan shook his head.

  “No, it’s yours alone. I had it made just for you,” he told her.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “Really – it’s too much!”

  “Nothing could ever be too much for you,” Roan assured her. “I love you so much it scares me.”

  “I love you too,” Isla responded, her eyes filling with tears all over again.

  “Ride with me?” Roan asked, gesturing toward Fiadhaich with a wicked smile.

  “But, the baby -!”

  “She’ll be all right for an hour or two without her mother,” Roan insisted. He caught Isla’s hand and led her in the direction of his horse.

  “Roan!” Isla squealed, suddenly conscious of their audience. The grooms, the driver and even the nanny were staring. “Everyone’s watching!”

  “Let them,” he purred back, threading his hands around Isla’s waist and lifting her effortlessly onto the back of his great brute of a mount. Isla opened her mouth to scold her husband again, but Roan had just swung himself up behind her, gripping her tight as he urged his horse on. Isla immediately lost the urge to fight.

  “This seems awfully familiar,” she murmured breathlessly as she snuggled back against her husband’s hard body. “You know, it almost reminds me of something…”

  “Of the first day of the rest of our lives?” Roan purred.

  Isla twisted and shot him a puzzled little glance. “My life didn’t start until I met you,” Roan swore, and then he claimed her lips, in a full searing kiss that held the promise of many years to come.

  The End

  Also by Stephanie Sterling

  The Perfect Candidate (Modern Romance)

  Just One Kiss (Regency Romance)

  Written as Chelsea Scott:

  Hungry For More (Modern Romance)

  And Coming Soon:

  A Year and A Day

  And Don’t Miss:

  Mine, All Mine

  By D.L. Rose (Excerpt Follows!)

  Mine, All MineBy D.L. Rose

  CHAPTER ONE

  London

  Tuesday, April 2nd 1816.

  Dominic Coel sat impatiently in the somber office of Lord Douglas, chief of foreign affairs to the Prince Regent. Dominic had only been out of his service for three months and yet here he was again, asked to serve his country after a decade of bloodshed and near death exploits. He had begun to wonder what he had ever been fighting for, although Dominic had never picked up a sword and charged into battle. Dominic’s talents were slightly more sinister than that and his battle grounds had consisted of back alley taverns only the roughest criminals dared to enter. If someone had information needed by the crown, Dominic knew exactly how to get it.

  Dominic could hear the shallow tap of Lord Douglas’s boot heels coming down the hall. The door opened silently and Lord Douglas took his place behind the large mahogany desk littered with papers.

  “I trust you know why I have sent for you Redwick?”

  Dominic spared him a glance then returned to scrutinizing his finely trimmed nails. “No Lord Douglas I don't, my service to the crown ended three months ago. Why I have been called upon once again, I have no idea. Would you care to explain?”

  He pinned Lord Douglas with a freezing stare.

  Lord Douglas, for the first time in his life, was at a loss for words. He had never feared any man before now and though the man sitting before him was of the bluest blood, he had heard stories about the ruthlessness of Lord Dominic. The man looked like the devil with jet-black hair, aristocratically angular face, and eyes of a cold crystal blue that could freeze the very blood running through one’s veins with a single look. He had been a deadly asset to the crown, but now that he had taken his place as Earl of Redwick in society, they needed him for a much more delicate matter.

  “I am aware that you have many pressing matters to attend to as the new Earl of Redwick, but there has been a situation that needs to be investigated with the delicacy and secrecy only you can achieve. It is a matter of treason and it cannot go unnoticed any longer.”

  “And what is it you expect me to do?”

  “I need you to investigate the matter of a missing girl. She is the daughter of the late Duke of Cranbury and disappeared when Mr. Hollow, her stepfather, committed treason. He was a small shipping merchant until he began moving cargo of a different nature.”

  “What does the girl have to do with it?”

  “We are not precisely sure, but her sudden disappearance from society in which she is very well known is alarming and she either knows the whereabouts of her stepfather……. or of the missing jewels.”

  “Jewels?” Dominic said derisively. “I am not taking part of any duck hunt for jewelry Lord Douglas.”

  “This is not just any piece of jewelry. This necklace is a priceless gift from the King of Spain himself and a French spy has taken it. We found his body in the Thames with a note containing precise instructions to do so leading us to Mr. Hollow, who we can only assume now has the necklace. We have lost enough to the French - we will not lose this; it is a symbol of our victory over France and future alliance with Spain. It is your duty Lord Dominic!” Lord Douglas slammed his fist on his desk for emphasis. He seemed embarrassed by his loss of composure and sat back in his chair, nervously wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead.

  Dominic watched him idly, slightly amused by his patriotic fervor, or was it greed that led this passion for justice. Dominic could no longer tell where loyalty ended and political ambitions began.

  “Find the girl and find the necklace. All that we ask is as you go about your usual society affairs you simply drop a question here or there, listen for any talk and such. Someone has to know where the young woman is, she cannot have dropped off the face of the earth. Her options would be limited to matrons and close fr
iends. Someone must know and you are the best man to find the truth.”

  “Do I have any choice in the matter?” Dominic asked sarcastically.

  “No” Lord Douglas glared hard at the arrogant young Earl. “You are on orders from the Prince himself. You may go now, keep me updated with any information.”

  Dominic raised an arrogant brow as Lord Douglas began to shuffle through papers completely dismissing his presence. He left the office with no further comment and returned to the bustling street outside. Forgoing his carriage, he decided to walk to his home, which was only a few blocks away. Walking seemed to calm his nerves and clear his head giving him room to think about how to find a missing debutante as soon as possible. He had a life to get back to, not a terribly exciting life, but it did not include murder and secrets and that suited him just fine.