PROLOGUE
“Where could they be?”
Thalia Dougal squinted in the darkness. Her lantern provided little illumination without the moonlight to aid it, hidden behind the clouds as it was. She shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her. Despite the approaching summer, the cold still held the nights in its firm grasp.
She could have dressed warmer for her small escapade. A nightgown and hooded cloak were not the smartest choice for warding off the chill, but she did not want to dirty any of her dresses. Her sister, Ava, had already teased her enough throughout their childhood, as Thalia used to come home covered in mud after running through the forest.
The gardens of MacCabe Castle boasted a vast array of flowers, and Thalia knew the names of all of them. She had made it her life’s work to know their properties and medicinal uses.
She passed the rows of plants, murmuring to herself the names and uses of each. “Pansies for the skin and ailment of the lungs. Fennel and rue for monthly pains. Columbine for stomach sickness and fevers.”
She knew she would be spending much of her time here in this garden, and she was eager to come back in the daylight to enjoy its full splendor.
Most of these plants were ready for cultivation, their flowers blooming and reaching up towards the sky with ease, but they were not the ones she had come for. She was here for the evening primrose. Small, delicate yellow flowers that Ava had assured her were already in bloom. They were most often used for headaches. Yet she could not find them anywhere.
She held her lantern up higher in an effort to expand her search when a pair of strong hands seized her by her waist, pulling her in.
Her back hit a solid wall of flesh. Heat radiated from the body behind her, bringing some relief from the chill she had been fighting off. Her cry of surprise had stuck in her throat, and her assailer took the opportunity to lean in closer to her.
“Ye’re late,” the husky male voice whispered. “Were ye hopin’ for a punishment?”
The words skittered down Thalia’s spine, and her stomach flipped as it did when her horse would jump over a fallen tree.Warmth spread like butter up her neck and into her cheeks. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and what was worse was that she didn’t know if she wanted to.
With that realization, Thalia firmly shook herself free from the spell. A strange man had grabbed her, whispering in her ear like he had the right to, and she would not stand for it.
As hard as she could, she drove her elbow into what she assumed to be the man’s stomach. He didn’t even flinch at the blow, but his hands did release her waist.
“If this is another game, I’m goin’ to need yer words, sweetheart.” His words carried amusement. “Cannae get rough without them.”
Thalia’s jaw dropped. This man not only had the gall to call her sweetheart, but also thought she would let him beroughwith her? Who did he think he was?
She whirled around, her hand flying through the air with the intent of making contact with his face, only to be stopped before it could meet its target. She stared at the large hand that had wrapped around her wrist faster than she could process its movement. Her eyes followed the muscular arm to the face of its owner, and with a start, she realized that she did know him.
Finlay Hunt stood before her. She would recognize him anywhere, despite how long it had been since they’d last seen each other. He stood a head taller than her, and his long dark hair hung loose around his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends.
He was dressed much more appropriately for the cold, but his wool jacket did nothing to hide the strong muscles beneath it. His hazel eyes scanned her face questioningly, roaming the length of her body as if he were seeing her for the first time.
Thalia suddenly realized she was still dressed in only her nightgown, and the warmth returned to her cheeks with a vengeance.
Finlay looked at the hand still clasped around her wrist, then dropped it quickly and took a step back from her. “Thalia. I’m sorry, lass. I just got back and didnae ken ye were here already,” he said.
Thalia adjusted her cloak more securely around herself, trying to calm her still-racing heart. “Finlay. I should have ken it was ye.”
The statement seemed to insult him, for he crossed his arms defensively.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Thalia shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her earlier bravery was fading, and nervousness was now replacing it. “It’s just that Ava had told me all about…”
“About what?”
“About yer…” She cleared her throat. “Well, yeradventures.”
His expression soured. “She shouldnae have. That was personal information I shared with a friend.”
“Well, she told me so I’d…”
