Wild (Regency Scandal 2), Carole Mortimer [novels for teenagers .TXT] 📗

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

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

Newsletter and Social Media Links

About the Author

Other books by Carole Mortimer

Copyright

Copyright © 2021 Carole Mortimer

Cover Design Copyright © Glass Slipper WebDesign

Editor: Linda Ingmanson

Formatter: Glass Slipper WebDesign

ISBN: 978-1-910597-94-1

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

All Rights Reserved.

Dedication

My very good friend, Jo.

Chapter One

The Scottish Highlands,

May 1816

Andrew had forgotten—had he ever known?—the beauty of the Scottish Highlands in late spring. The rolling hills and mountains were shrouded in mist, with the occasional patch of snow still, the deep valleys flower-strewn.

Of course he had known. Once upon a time, he and his father had taken hunting and fishing trips here together. At least once a year. Before all the trouble began.

Trouble?

Stop lying to yourself, Andrew, he cautioned.

That so-called trouble had started ten years ago when Andrew was seven and twenty. It had consisted initially of the gossip regarding his mother’s numerous and well-known affairs, before she finally ran off with the family butler. This was followed by his father taking to drink and openly having liaisons with the less savory actresses. To add to that misery, five years later, Andrew’s eighteen-year-old sister had eloped to Scotland with a man she had known for only a week.

Between the three of them, Andrew’s family had dragged the name Belgrade and the Essex ducal title into the gutter, making them all, Andrew included, fodder for every gossipmonger in London, kind or unkind. Andrew had spent the last ten years behaving within the strict rules of Society in the hope that by doing so, he had returned a modicum of respect to his family name.

He knew he was not a weak man, but he was a controlled and determined one. Nothing and no one would, or could, tempt him into breaking that control.

The only reason he had now left London in the middle of the Season was because he had been informed of his sister’s death in a boating accident, and her husband alongside her.

The letters he had received from a Catriona McGregor informing him of the death of her brother and sister-in-law had also brought news of the existence of a nephew Andrew had no previous knowledge of. Malcolm was now almost five years old, Andrew was informed. Leading him to wonder if Elena had known Hugh McGregor for longer than a week, and if it was the anticipation of the wedding vows that was the reason for her hasty marriage.

Brother and sister had not kept in touch after Elena’s elopement, so it was a complete surprise for Andrew to learn not only of the boy’s existence, but that Andrew had been left as guardian to Elena’s son.

In line with his strict adherence to all that was correct, Andrew had immediately set about the duty of traveling into Scotland with the intention of bringing the boy back to London to live with him there. His secretary was already looking into employing a governess with that outcome in mind.

“Stand and deliver!”

Andrew was so taken by surprise at the shouted instruction, he immediately pulled back on the reins to bring his horse to a halt before quickly glancing around him.

There were few trees in the Highlands, but several rocky crags on either side of the narrow track he had been following provided a perfect hiding place for highwaymen to ambush unwary travelers. His assailants weren’t visible, in any case.

“We said that last week, ye wee ninny,” another voice hissed. “We agreed this time you were going to say ‘stop and raise your hands in the air.’”

“But I like ‘stand and deliver’ best,” the first voice, sounding much younger than the other, complained.

“Verra well, but next time, ye shall try ‘stop and raise your hands in the air.’”

“If I must,” the younger voice grumbled.

Both voices had that attractive Scottish lilt of the Highlands rather than the harsher burr of the Lowlands.

Still, it was the strangest thing to be accosted by robbers and then for Andrew to have to sit upon his horse and listen as the two then bickered over how they wished to proceed. Shouldn’t that have been decided before the robbery took place?

The fact Andrew had been stopped by highwaymen at all when, for the most part, they had been eliminated from the English roads was at odds with what he’d come to expect. Admittedly, there were not so many decent roads in the Highlands as there now were in England, and the ones here were, for the main part, only tracks still, distinguishable from the heather only by the worn and rutted roads made by the passing of previous horses or carriages. Because of this, any traveling here was necessarily done at a slow pace.

Andrew’s own carriage was even now rocking along one of the uneven roads while he had decided to finish the last day of his journey riding across the hills and glens on horseback. It meant he would arrive in advance of his carriage and valet, but the scenery and being able to breathe in the fresh air, rather than be confined in his stuffy carriage with his complaining and travel-sick valet, had more than made up for that inconvenience. Not that he did not sympathize with his valet, but it had still been a long week incarcerated in the carriage with him from London.

Only for Andrew to now be waylaid by robbers within sight of a large manor house with stables and barns, set close to where a loch sparkled like dark sapphires beside it. He’d hoped to stop and possibly enjoy refreshments there while asking for directions to the McGregor family home. Having been on horseback for over six hours already today, he didn’t appreciate this delay.

“Oh Lord, that man isna Dougal!” the second