Back Wild Wicked Scot Save as PDF
Chapters (31)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Booklist
  4. Praise
  5. Dedication
  6. Prologue
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Epilogue

“Ooh,” she said. “That sounds quite ominous.” She looked up, but her smile faded when she saw his expression.

“Aye, you’re bonny,” he said low. “I can scarcely bring to mind the trembling lass who met me at the altar.”

Margot laughed softly. “I was trembling, wasn’t I? In truth, I could scarcely stand, I was so frightened.”

Arran moved a rook into position. “Was I such a beast?”

“A beast!” She laughed lightly. “You were no beast. You were the strongest and most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on.”

He snorted at flattery he considered false.

“I am sincere! You had completely captured my imagination, though,” she said, putting up a hand, “I will admit I was terribly innocent. But I had scarcely turned eighteen years. I had not the slightest idea what to do with a man like you. I remember looking up, and there was Christ smiling down at me and I thought I might faint dead away.” She smoothly matched his move. “Nor had I any notion of how to be a wife. My mother had long been dead and there was no one to instruct me, no one to tell me about Scotland. Certainly no one to tell me all that went on between husband and wife.” She glanced up and smiled saucily.

“Aye, you trembled then, too,” Arran reminded her, and her smile broadened.

“As did you, as I recall.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps a wee bit.”

“And then I came here, to Balhaire. It felt as if I had journeyed to the end of the world! The people spoke a different language, and none of them were happy to see me. It was so overwhelming, really. I felt quite lost.”

Arran moved a bishop. “I felt a wee bit lost myself.”

“You?” she said, surprised.

“Aye, me. I’d been accustomed to coming and going as I pleased, to dining when I wanted—and alone if I so desired,” he said with a pointed look at her.

She gave him a light laugh and shrugged.

“I didna know how to incorporate a wife into this life, and like you, I had no one to instruct me.”

“But you seemed so confident!”

“I wasna confident, Margot. I hadna been a husband, and I didna want to harm you or displease you in any way.”

“Oh.” Her expression softened. “Oh, Arran, you never harmed me. And any displeasure I suffered was my own doing.”

“Hmm...you have said to the contrary many times.”

“Oh dear,” she said with a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I’ve said many things in the last few years that I wish I’d never said.”

“Well...your displeasure was not entirely of your own doing,” he admitted. “I might have made a greater effort.”

“Perhaps,” she said with an indifferent shrug.