The MacLeans: Sleepless in Scotland Read online

  “My lord, there’s been an error,” Triona began.

  It was too late. The coach was moving. Triona glared at MacLean’s dark, shadowy form. “My lord, I am not who you think I am.”

  “What?” Amusement and disbelief colored his voice. “Then you are not Miss Hurst.”

  “No. I mean, yes. I am Miss Hurst, but not the Miss Hurst you think me.”

  Even in the gloom, she could make out the flash of his teeth as he smiled. “I see,” he said politely. “You are Miss Hurst, but then you are not. Of course.”

  “I am Miss Caitriona Hurst. Caitlyn is my sister.”

  “Of course she is.”

  Triona relaxed a bit. Thank goodness he was a man of reason! “This has been a horrible mistake. Oh dear, this is so indelicate and Caitlyn would—”

  He reached across the coach, his hands large and warm, closing about her waist as he lifted her and placed her in his lap. He grinned, his handsome face within inches of her own as he said in a low voice, his breath warm on her cheek, his sensual cologne tickling her nose. “Since I caught the little bird, then she is mine to enjoy. But first, let us agree to dispense with story time.”

  “My lord, you don’t understand! I’m not Ca—”

  It was then he committed an even more unthinkable act than holding her in his large, warm lap, as scandalous as it was. In the semidarkness of a luxurious coach as it dashed madly through a snowy night, MacLean bent his head and kissed her.

  Turn the page for rave reviews of Karen Hawkins’s romantic storytelling…

  Praise for

  TO CATCH A HIGHLANDER

  “Love and laughter, poignancy and emotional intensity, endearing characters, and a charming plot, are the ingredients in Hawkins’s utterly delightful tale.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Karen Hawkins’s best book to date! Fast, sensual, and brilliant, it tantalizes and pleases all in the same breath…. This is romance at its best!”

  —Romance and More!

  TO SCOTLAND, WITH LOVE

  “Hawkins brings another hardheaded MacLean brother and a sassy miss together in a sensual battle of the sexes. Her humor, intelligent characters, and story are simply delightful.”

  —Romantic Times

  HOW TO ABDUCT A HIGHLAND LORD

  “Hawkins takes a fiery Scot lass and a wastrel lord and puts them together in a match made in, well, not heaven, but one that’s heated, exciting, and touching. Hawkins excels at taking tried-and-true plotlines and turning them into fresh, vibrant books.”

  —Romantic Times

  “In How to Abduct a Highland Lord, the characters are as wonderful as the story…. [It] is laced with passion and drama, and with its wonderfully romantic and thrilling ending, it’s a story you don’t want to miss!”

  —JoyfullyReviewed.com

  …and for all the delightfully sexy romances of Karen Hawkins

  “Karen Hawkins knows how to keep a reader entranced from first page to last.”

  —Joan Johnston

  “Karen Hawkins never fails to please!”

  —Victoria Alexander

  “Karen Hawkins writes fast, fun, and sexy stories!”

  —Christina Dodd

  “A lively, sexy escapade…”

  —Linda Howard

  “Saucy, witty flirtation…excitement and passion.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Luscious, romantic, witty, sexy, and emotional.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Fast paced, lively, sexy, and laugh-out-loud funny.”

  —Romance and More!

  “An enjoyable fast-paced read. The sensuality is steamy….”

  —The Best Reviews

  “If you like your novels fast paced and full of laugh-out-loud fun, this is the one for you!”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “I laughed, cried, and fell in love…. Every character was so well written that they seemed as though they could jump right off the page….”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Also by Karen Hawkins

  The MacLean Series

  To Catch a Highlander

  To Scotland, With Love

  How to Abduct a Highland Lord

  Contemporary Romance

  Talk of the Town

  Available from Pocket Books

  Pocket Books

  A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Karen Hawkins

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

  ISBN-10: 1-4391-6434-7

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-6434-1

  Visit us on the Web:

  http://www.SimonandSchuster.com

  I wrote parts of this book while staying at my in-laws house as my father-in-law fought his last few days against cancer. It was there, at his bedside, that I learned the true meaning of character, both from him and in watching the stream of caregivers who stood by his side.

  To Hospice of St. Francis in Titusville, FL. Thank you for taking such beautiful, compassionate care of my incredible father-in-law who was able to die as he had lived—strong, proud, and loved.

  www.hospiceofstfrancis.com

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  For Nate…

  Thank you for the perfect wedding—peaceful, joyous, and loving.

  I love you more every day.

  Chapter 1

  “There’s naught worse than a man who thinks he’s always right—’cept a woman who always is.”

  OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER’S NIGHT

  I forbid you to go.” Though merely twenty years old, William Hurst thought himself in charge of Wythburn Vicarage when his father was away. “Be warned, Triona,” he added in his deepest voice. “I will do everything in my power to halt this madness!”

  His oldest sister didn’t even look up from digging out a worn portmanteau from her wardrobe. Caitriona—Triona to her family—placed the case on her bed and snapped it open, then began packing.

  “Did you hear me?” William said more loudly, “I forbid—”

  “What? Oh, yes, I heard you. But someone has to go to London and talk some sense into Caitlyn.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Since Father and Mother are visiting Uncle Traveres for two more weeks, and you are in the midst of preparing for your exams, that someone w
ill have to be me.”

  William scowled. A handsome young man possessing considerable height, he was used to being paid more heed. Everyone in the county deferred to him, except his own family, even when he wore his high-collared coat of blue superfine, his cravat tied in an impressive array of knots. “You are not Caitlyn’s keeper.”

  “But I am her twin sister, so it falls on me to help her out of this mess she’s made.”

  “William, leave Triona be.” Eighteen-year-old Robert stood by the door, his arms wrapped around a huge tome, and smirked at his older brother. “Father expressly placed Triona in charge when he left. I heard him.”

  William scowled. “Father didn’t intend her to go running off to London. As I’m the oldest male, that should be my job.”

  Triona adjusted her spectacles more securely on her nose and laughed. “Ah! I see; you don’t wish to miss out on the fun. Well, I promise I won’t stay long enough to have any.” She crossed her fingers and held them up, saying primly, “Promise is as promise does.”

  William sighed. “I don’t mind you having fun. I just don’t wish you to find yourself in an awkward situation. A female—”

  “Who is twenty-three years of age.”

  “—traveling alone—”

  “Nurse is going with me.”

  “—to the most licentious city on earth, a den of iniquity and vice—”

  “Ooh! Very well said!” She looked him up and down in admiration. “Is that from one of Father’s sermon books?”

  William couldn’t stop a sheepish grin. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, and I promise to be careful. But I’m the only one Caitlyn will listen to, so I must go.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “William!” Seventeen-year-old Mary dropped her knitting with a huff of irritation. “This is an emergency! Caitlyn is acting so badly that poor Aunt Lavinia was forced to write for assistance!” Her lips quivered. “After this, Aunt Lavinia will never invite any of us to stay with her for a season!”

  William sighed. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t rescue Caitlyn from whatever mischief she’s bent on; I just wish we could ask Father’s opinion on how to deal with it.”

  “No, you don’t,” Michael said sharply from beside the fire, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the room’s chill. Thin and pale and given to a weak chest, he possessed a sharp wit and a sharper mind that outstripped his fifteen years. Having caught the same ague that had kept Triona from enjoying a season in London with Caitlyn, he had not yet recovered, with an unnatural flush still coloring his thin cheeks and a wretched cough that lingered. “Father is the last person to notify about this. If he knew how badly Caitlyn has been behaving, he’d never allow another of us to visit Aunt Lavinia.”

  Mary chimed in, “It took months to get him to agree to allow Caitlyn and Triona to go, and when Triona became ill and couldn’t travel, he tried to cancel the entire trip and Mother had to intervene and—”

  “I know!” William said, clearly exasperated. “I was here, too.”

  “Then you should know that telling Father anything negative would be a colossal error.”

  Michael nodded. “Mary’s right. Father would—” He coughed, a long, racking effort that sounded as if his toes might curl inside out.

  Triona paused in folding her silver-threaded shawl and gave him a worried glance. The vicarage at Wythburn was a rambling, drafty house given to mysterious creaks and leaks. Besides the uneven stairs that leaned to one side and warped floorboards that no amount of nails could hold flat, cold gusts rattled the doors and windows and kept damp corners from drying out properly.

  She frowned at her youngest brother. “Are you taking your medicine?”

  Michael grimaced. “No.” Before she could protest, he added sullenly, “It makes me too sleepy.”

  “Sleep would be good for you.”

  “All I do is sleep. I’m rested enough as it is.”

  William frowned. “You can’t tell me you slept well last night, for I heard you coughing well into the morning hours.”

  Triona pointed to the bottle at Michael’s elbow. “Take it.”

  “But—”

  She set her hands on her hips. “Michael John Hurst, don’t make me sing.”

  William turned to his brother. “Michael, take that medicine!”

  “Please,” Mary pleaded fervently.

  Clutching his book, Robert pointed to the bottle. “For all our sakes!”

  Michael gave a weak laugh that turned into another racking cough. When he could breathe again, he picked up the bottle and a spoon. “Fine, but only because I feel sorry for all of you. I don’t mind if Triona sings to me.”

  “How can you not?” Mary asked.

  He grinned. “Because this ague has stopped up my ears. You all sound like you’re very far away.”

  Triona waited to make sure he took a full dose, then turned back to her packing. “If all goes well, I should be back from London before Father returns. And if I can secure Aunt Lavinia’s silence, he need never know.”

  Mary brightened. “Then he might not protest if she invites another of us to visit her for a season!”

  Triona nodded. If Mary didn’t eat too many crème tarts, she might well rival Caitlyn in looks one day. Meanwhile, Caitlyn was in full bloom, and it was difficult to imagine a more winsome beauty.

  Although Triona and Caitlyn were twins and enjoyed some similarities, there were many more differences between them. Caitlyn was small and slim with golden hair, tilted dark brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a mesmerizingly graceful way of floating across a room that left men standing mouths agape, their eyes glued to her. Triona was tall and more rounded, her hair more brown than gold, her hazel eyes hidden by spectacles and lacking the tilt that made Caitlyn’s so compelling. And no matter how Triona tried, she couldn’t float across the room any more than she could trim a few inches off her ungainly height.

  But it was more than that. It was the way Caitlyn laughed, and charmed, and…oh, Triona couldn’t define it. Neither could the dozens of besotted young men who’d attempted to describe Caitlyn’s charms in laughably bad poetry and gushing conversation.

  “Before Triona leaves, we must all do one thing,” Michael said, his tone unyielding. “We must all vow not to tell Father about Triona’s trip. All of us.” He gave Robert a pointed stare.

  “Yes,” William said immediately, his gaze locked on Robert as well. “We must all vow to keep our mouths closed.”

  Robert turned a dull red. “I won’t vow any such thing! Father wouldn’t wish us to keep secrets from him.”

  Robert had won Father’s approval by applying himself to his studies in a way that left his siblings glaring at him from their respective corners of the dinner table, especially when he smugly answered one of Father’s more esoteric questions in flawless Greek or Latin.

  “Perhaps you don’t understand the situation.” Triona picked up a letter from the bed and handed it to Robert. “Aunt Lavinia is at wit’s end to know what to do. As much as I esteem our aunt for her good nature and generosity, we all know how Caitlyn can be at times.”

  Mary nodded. “No one is more stubborn.”

  “Or impulsive.” Michael’s voice was faintly slurred, the medicine beginning to take effect.

  Robert read the missive, then gave a snort of disgust. “Aunt Lavinia can’t think ordering Caitlyn about will help things! It will only make her more determined to do worse.”

  William sighed. “It doesn’t matter how badly Caitlyn mulls things—none of us have the funds to visit London, anyway.”

  “But just think,” Mary said earnestly. “If Caitlyn makes an advantageous marriage, she can invite us to stay with her in London and take us to balls and plays and all sorts of events!”

  Triona smiled dreamily, placing two books into her portmanteau. “I should like to see the British Museum.”

  Robert brightened. “By Jove, that would be something! I heard the Elgin Marbles are on display
.”

  Michael said, “I’d like to go see Tattersalls auction house.”

  On her way to fetch her half boots from the wardrobe, Triona paused by the settee to muss Michael’s hair. “That would be lovely,” she agreed.

  William’s eyes shone. “I’d like to see that, too! And Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon, and Vauxhall Gardens, and—”

  Triona laughed. “Caitlyn had better marry a man with a very, very large house so we will all fit.”

  “And she would certainly let us stay with her, for she’s very generous,” Mary said.

  “And foolish,” Robert added. “And impulsive and—”

  William balled his hands into fists.

  “Well, she is!” Robert eyed his older brother’s fists and added hastily, “Not that it’s her fault. Caitlyn’s behavior is evidence of the decadent influence of London society—”

  “Oh, please.” Triona folded a night rail. “Caitlyn was just as impetuous and unthinking while here in the country.”

  “She wasn’t such a flirt,” Robert insisted.

  “Yes, she was,” Triona said in a regretful tone. “Poor Mr. Smythe-Laughton went into a decline when she left for London, and then there was Mr. Lyndon, and Lord Haversham’s eldest, and—oh, more than I can count.”

  “There were dozens,” Mary agreed enviously. “Father warned her of it several times, though I heard him telling Mother that Caitlyn didn’t realize her effect on men and that, in general, he thought her flirting very innocent, though he couldn’t help worrying that it might be her undoing.”

  Robert sniffed. “Father has been much too indulgent.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that,” Triona said dryly.

  “Please don’t!” Robert said so fervently that Triona laughed. He grinned in return. “Maybe I am being a bit harsh, but you must agree that London has had an unfortunate effect on Caitlyn. She might have flirted more than was seemly here, but she wasn’t so lost to decorum as to declare in front of an entire ballroom that she was going to marry someone before the end of the year, ‘one way or another.’”