Page 1 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
PROLOGUE
April 1805
Glasgow, Scotland
“Marry me,” he whispered into her ear. “Make me the happiest of men.”
“Yer family doesna even ken I exist, Lord Robert Harding,” Annis whispered back, her eyes closed, her head leaning back against his shoulder. “A marquess’s son marrying a commoner, and a Highland lass, at that.”
She tipped her head back so their eyes met—her stormy blue clashing with his lighter hazel green. Those colors seemed to characterize their relationship and individual personalities. Annis Craigg of the MacNaughton clan was a Highlander from Dunderave, who confronted life with a sweet but stubborn defiance. She was fearless, never letting an obstacle—be it money, her sex, or knowledge—get in the way of her goal. This “flaw” seemed to set her apart and make her a wallflower of sorts. Robert, who was more disciplined and methodical in his confrontations, admired her and enjoyed the contrast in their relationship. He wasn’t put off like other men in Glasgow.
“Annis, my love, I’m serious,” he said. “I’m the third son and of little importance to the family name. My older brothers will provide more than enough triumphs to quench Father’s thirst for glory.”
“Englishmen never have enough glory.”
“You wouldn’t need to work.”
They sat in the parlor of the MacNaughton boarding house in Glasgow, home to many of the clan who worked at the MacNaughton Textile Mill. It was a large room with a thick, well-used wool carpet beneath his boots, large windows with equally worn curtains allowing plenty of sunlight, and paintings of the Highland landscape hanging on the walls. A space that had been lived in, comfort blanketing the inhabitants who gathered here. A room where Robert had immediately felt at home, at ease. A room so blatantly different—in décor and ambiance—than the parlors of his childhood.
A fire crackled in the hearth, sending waves of heat over his already-warmed skin. His blood boiled each time he saw this Scottish beauty, and time only seemed to increase his feelings for her.
“Ye ken I want to work, ye dunderhead.” Her delicate dark-amber brows came together in a frown. “Unless ye havena been listening to me.”
“I cling to your every word,” he said, placing a kiss on her nose. “But I’ll make a good living as a barrister. And when Aunt Lucille dies, I will have the estate. It’s small but?—”
“How will I work at the bookstore when we live a half-day’s journey from Glasgow?” She sat up, her honey-brown hair falling down her back. Her slender fingers quickly gathered the shining tresses, twisted them, and shoved a hairpin into the center, creating a makeshift bun. “If someone walks in, they’ll think we’ve been up to something.”
“We have,” Robert mumbled, nipping at her neck and laughing when she slapped at him.
“I mean, they’ll assume ye’ve taken advantage of me. I willna have ye ruining my reputation when I’ve no’ even had the pleasure of being ruined.”
A loud guffaw erupted from his throat. “And that is why I love you so. I never know what will come out of your beautiful mouth next.”
“I only speak my mind,” she said with narrowed eyes. “Ye must realize if my cousin Colin?—”
“He won’t be wed until next month, so he’s not really family yet. It seems as if everyone in Scotland is somehow related.”
Colin MacNaughton was betrothed to one of Annis’s cousins. The man was built like a mountain, and Robert could imagine his head plucked off his shoulders with one of the man’s bear paws.
“It doesna take much blood to make one part of a family, but that’s beside the point. He’s part of our clan. If he ever caught ye doing anything that wasna proper?—”
“I’d be a dead man.” Robert winced just thinking of the giant raven-haired Scot. “I’m surprised he allows us together at all, considering I’m English.”
“Och, he holds no grudge against ye for yer birth. It would be easier if ye didna look so English though.” She tousled his hair. “If ye had a wee red in these blond waves and a bit o’ sun on your skin, it would help.”
“I can remedy one but not the other.” She was distracting him, changing the subject so she didn’t have to answer his question. He pulled her fingers from his head, immediately missing the caress, and held both her hands in his. “Annis, I’m serious. I want to tell my family we are betrothed when I return home.”
He saw the flash of pain in her eyes, the blue orbs darkening as her gaze avoided his. She didn’t like to talk about his departure. “I must finish my studies at the Inns of Court, but I shall return for visits whenever I can.”
“Ye have more than a year left, Rabbie. Why no’ wait until then? When ye have an income of yer own?”
“I’m afraid you’ll find another.” He’d said it out loud. The fear that consumed him when he thought of returning to England. “I couldn’t bear it.”
“How long have we known one another?” she asked, her tone gentle and her gaze no longer avoiding his. “A year?”
He nodded. “And I’ve only officially courted you for the past two months.”
“It’s that English courage of yers which held ye back,” she teased.
