An English Earl is kidnapped by a cantankerous ghost and sent back through time to rescue the daughter of a 1245 Scottish Laird from an arranged marriage to a cruel and murderous clan chieftan...
In 1811, England, terribly wounded after a duel protecting his younger sister’s honor, Robert Houghton, the earl of Singleton’s body is broken and useless. He faces a miserable existence as the shadow of the man he once was, until a cantankerous ghost appears and kidnaps him and transports him back through time to 1245 Scotland. In order to be healed and made whole again, as well as return to his own time, he must rescue a Scottish laird's daughter from an arranged marriage to an evil and murderous clan chieftan.
But the red haired Fury, Jenna MacReynolds is more than he bargained for and has plans to vanquish her enemies and claim leadership of her own clan. In their struggles to survive the castle intrigues and certain death at the hands of their enemies, the two build a love that is enduring, one that vanquishes the evil that faces them and transcends even time itself...
“I don’t know which part of hell ye came from, but I mean to tell ye this. Ye’re our only way out of the stramash we’re in and I’ve no intention of giving myself or my little sister to that demon Carrick. Do ye understand?”
Robert gurgled loudly, his throat seeming to close up. As he lay helpless, he saw the other woman cautiously approach and kneel behind Jenna.
“Are ye going to kill him then?”
Jenna paused, clearly giving it some thought. “Not yet, but don’t think I won’t hesitate to do so if the situation warrants it.”
Behind the two women, Robert could see an all too familiar shape take form. It was the gnome, who had likely come to make even more sport of Robert’s predicament.
“Enth,” Robert tried again. He didn’t like not being able to speak clearly, his disability choosing that moment to taunt him.
“I dinna think ye’d care for it too much,” Jenna said. “Still, there’s naught to be done about it. If ye try to betray me or my sister, I’ll cut yer throat, but not before I’ve separated yer balls from yer nether regions, aye?”
For the briefest moment, Robert saw a hint of something fearful cross her dark, green-eyed expression. Fear and desperation lived beneath her expression. Even though he’d seen her several times in his dreams—the porcelain face, complete with high cheekbones, a perfect brow, a splash of faint freckles and a mouth so round and luscious that it practically begged for kisses—Robert realized that he’d never really seen her at all.
At least not like this.
Before he could answer, the gnome cleared his throat.
“Ye need not worrit for him, lass. I’ve fixed it so that he shall not be a chatterin’ away like a magpie. He’ll only be able to speak in your presence and no other.”
Jenna spun on the little man, her face twisted with fury and turning as nearly as ruddy red as her hair.
“Are ye bloody insane, man? What have ye done to us?”
The gnome crossed his arms indignantly. “I’ve only done as ye asked, gel. Found ye a fine young man to use as ye wish. He’ll be totally at yer whim. I don’t expect ye to thank me for it, I suppose, but a well wish or three would be most welcome.”
“Yer bloody daft, man. What he is, is even more trouble.”
“He’s a bit on the lame side, aye. Canna walk far or fast, but that’ll keep him from running off, ye see.
Also, he’s got a fair face, so as not to disturb yer delicate sensitivities.”
Jenna chewed her bottom lip. The sight of those perfect teeth worrying across her lovely mouth almost made Robert melt.
“I dunno. It sounds reasonable enough, I guess.”
“Ever more than that, as an added bonus, I’ve given him rather indecent tendency toward ye. ‘Tis true, every time he gets close to ye, he’ll get a terrible cock stand.”
Jenna stepped back, clearly abashed.
“Go on, look for yerself.”
“I will not!”
Robert would have seconded her refusal had he the ability to do so. Before he could even gurgle his disapproval, the smaller girl, Caitlin scooted forward and lifted his covering.
“Aye, tis’ true, Jenna. He’s got a fierce thickening for ye. My goodness, he’s well endowed!”
Robert could have died right there on the spot.
“Caitlin! What in blazes do ye think yer doin? Leave the poor man be, will ye!”
Deep in his heart, Robert found a bit of sympathy for Jenna’s embarrassment, which as it turned out, was as uncomfortable as his own.
The gnome chuckled. “Now, lass, don’t ye be getting yerself so worked up over such a thing. The fact is, it’s a poor spell at best, and like yon laddie’s enthusiasm, it will likely diminish if ye give it little attention.”
Jenna only huffed her disapproval and turned to her sister.
“Cover him up, Caitie, afore he catches his death. I canna have him freezing in that condition, now can I?”
Caitlin nodded, and giving Robert an appreciative grin, tucked the shirt around him once again.
Relieved, and considerably warmer than a moment before, Robert sent her a grateful nod. She acknowledged it with a tilt of her head and then turned back to her sister.
“Verra well, Hobart,” Jenna began, “I suppose he will do for the time being, though how we’re to get him down the side of a mountain, just Caitlin and I, I’ve no idea.”
Hobart yawned wide and nodded in Robert’s direction. “You’ll do bonny well, aye.” He then turned around, walked two steps and promptly disappeared.
Robert was certain his chances of ever getting back to his sane existence evaporated along with him.
Placing her hands upon her hips, Jenna stared at the spot a moment longer, then turning, she approached Robert once again.
“Now, Rory, my fine lad. Let’s see what else ye look like beneath my plaid.” She sighed and kneeling beside him, went to the task of rolling Robert to one side, and judging by the whistling of cool air that touched his backside, and the rush of breath Jenna let out when she gazed at the whole of him, she wasn’t too disappointed with the hand that fate had dealt her.
“Oohh,” Caitlin said beside her, “He certainly is well made, now isna he?”
That made it official. Robert wouldn’t have to worry about getting back to his old life or even surviving the crushing cold. He was going to die of embarrassment long before anything worse could befall him.