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A Lady's Seduction [Highland Menage 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
A Lady's Seduction [Highland Menage 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online
Highland Menage 3
A Lady’s Seduction
Lady Alana Sinclair's father, the Earl of Caithness, banished her years ago after hearing lies that she was ruined. The truth was her cousin brutally beat her, leaving her for dead. Alana is now the Earl's sole surviving child. He orders her home to marry her cousin and produce grandsons.
Cormac and James MacDougal fostered with the Earl. They knew Alana as a child and lusted after her as a maid but as penniless bastards they had no right to touch her. Expecting she has long married, she remains an impossible dream until they are hired to escort her from Fraser Castle to Caithness.
They know her brutal cousin well, and will do anything to protect her. That includes allowing her to seduce them into marriage even though they know her father will not hesitate to kill them for disrupting his plans.
But will Alana—and her husbands—be satisfied with a marriage of convenience? Or will they want far more...
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 43,653 words
A LADY'S SEDUCTION
Highland Menage 3
Reece Butler
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
A LADY'S SEDUCTION
Copyright © 2015 by Reece Butler
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-281-1
First E-book Publication: May 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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This is Reece Butler’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Reece Butler’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
This book is for Judy Lowstuter of Celtic Journeys, LLC for providing a most educational tour of the Scottish Highlands. Judy answered my many questions and provided a wealth of information. A highlight was the West Highland Museum in Fort William, where volunteers came out on a Sunday afternoon to give us a personalized tour.
A special thank you goes to Paul K. Lang of Living History Presentations for taking the time to speak about the history of the Lovat Frasers, who feature in this book. He gave details about his plaid, targ, claymore, and Lochaber axe at the Wardlaw Mausoleum. Paul explains these weapons at www.wardlawmausoleum.com.
Of course all errors in this series are my own.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
A LADY'S SEDUCTION
Highland Menage 3
REECE BUTLER
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
“Lady Janet Fraser bids ye to her solar.”
Alana Sinclair sat back on her heels and shaded her eyes with her forearm. The surly messenger sneered down at her, not difficult as she was on her knees in the dirt. Some at Lovat Castle were jealous she was treated almost as family, though she often did the work of a servant. This man was obviously one of them. She didn’t recognize him, so perhaps he was new.
“Thank you.” She went back to transplanting the seedling he’d interrupted.
“Dinna tarry. And make sure ye are clean!”
“Of course,” she replied, biting back the words she’d much rather say. She rarely blurted what she thought anymore. She told herself it was maturity when in truth it was necessary for survival. She patted the plant with satisfaction. The messenger deliberately set his toe on the seedling she’d just transplanted, squashing it.
“You oaf! These are herbs for your laird’s kitchen!” She shoved at his boot.
“Ye should stay above stairs. If ‘tis true ye are an earl’s daughter.”
Another contemptuous look swept over her. She struggled to her feet. Her bare feet, which made him sneer all the more.
“My father is George Sinclair, fourth Earl of Caithness!”
“And mine is the cousin of the king.”
She pushed her shoulders back and gave the look her father bestowed on all who displeased him. “Mayhaps,” she replied. “However, my mother was married to my father at the time of my birth.”
Her accusation of bastardy had him hissing at her and stomping away. No doubt she’d made another enemy thanks to her cursed Sinclair temper. While her father was the most powerful man in Scotland’s northeast, if this man was a cousin of the king, natural son or not, he could do far more damage to her than the other way around.
As she lived here only due to the kindness of Laird and Lady Fraser, almost anyone could do her damage. Her mother had died shortly after her birth. She’d been mostly ignored by her father, which Alana preferred to his cold arrogance.
The few times he’d noticed her, when she’d done something he disapproved of, he’d ordered brutal punishments. The last one, banishment, had brought her to Lovat Castle. She would do anything for the laird and lady who had given her refuge when she’d had nothing but pain to call her own.
Now approaching five-and-twenty, she earned her place through her skills with a needle, in the garden, and with the children. Few here knew she’d once been an outgoing, impulsive, laughing child. She’d bitten her tongue so often she was surprised there was anything left. She’d had no choice so was always pleasant, dutiful, and quiet, unless bothered by obnoxious messengers.
Alana cleaned her hands and feet, tidied her hair, and changed her skirt. Her heart began to pound as she neared the back stairs, so like a dark, near-airless tomb.
William is far away. You are safe.
She hurried around the narrow steps to the fourth floor. Light streamed into the corridor from the solar’s open door. She released the breath she’d held and stepped into the room. Sun burst through the south-facing oriel window, now open to the spring air. A fireplace on the northwest provided heat during the long, dark winter. No matter the weather it was a favorite room for the women to ply their needles.
Lady Janet stood by the giant tapestry Alana had designed and created as a tribute to the Fraser clan. After eight years of work she had only one small corner to complete.
“Your tapestry shows well in the light,” said Lady Janet. “The Fraser strawberries look good enough to eat.” She turned. Her profile in the harsh light showed deep lines of worry.
“You seem concerned, my lady. I trust Laird Fraser is well?”
She glanced at the missive in her hand. “Aye, he is well. The news is for you, child.”
“For me?”
“Alexander has heard from the Earl of Caithness.”
Alana’s heart froze, then pounded hard. A wave of dizziness hit. She reached for the wall to steady herself. After the night that changed her life William had informed her father she was no virgin. It meant she was unfit to marry and therefore of no use. The earl in a rage had banished her to Lovat Castle and cut off all ties.
She forced the butterflies of dread to settle. Perhaps it was good news. John, her oldest brother and therefore the Master of Caithness, was kinder than her father. If John was now earl due to her father’s death she might be allowed to return home, perhaps to live quietly in a dower house.
If her father was alive and contacting her, it would not be to her benefit.
“Would the earl be my father or my brother?” She held her breath.
“Your father still lives, Alana. He has ordered you brought to him. We canna refuse.”
Alana jammed her eyes, and lips, closed. Her time of peace was over. She’d hoped to pass all her days here, quietly watching as others lived their lives to the fullest. It was not to be. For some reason the earl wanted her. Or more accurately, wanted something from her. Her only value to him was as a bargaining chip. Her dowry would bring enough wealth for a clan to accept her for a younger son, even though all knew she was a ruined, willful woman with a temper. At her advanced age, she might even be barren.
If her father demanded her return, she no longer had to hide her true self. She would not be rude, but would take control of her own life while she could.
“Why, pray tell, would the earl suddenly remember he has another daughter?” She spoke sarcastically, then paused as if thinking. “But of course! He’s decided to marry me off for something he wants.”
She raised her chin and looked directly at Lady Janet. The woman was well educated, had a network of informants, and was trusted by her loving husband to take up the business of their clan while he was away. They had what she, in her dreams, wished for and knew was impossible. Few women of her station had a choice in their husband. Fewer were respected by them.
“I will do as bid, my lady, but I do not go meekly to his market stall like a brood mare.”
Lady Janet’s eyes widened at Alana’s outburst. “Brood mare? Are you not the daughter of an earl? Do you not remember a woman of good birth’s lot is to obey her father, including his choice of a husband, and then provide heirs for that husband?”
Alana dropped her head. “Aye my lady. Your father chose well for you.”
“Yes my father, and mother, chose well for all their children. But do not think Alexander was like this when we met.”
“He wasn’t?” Alana looked up.
Lady Janet shook her head. A smile played at one end of her mouth. “Just as a man uses strategy to attack or defend his castle, a wife must use the weapons at her disposal. When done carefully with good intent, a woman can mold a caring man more to her liking. Of course, in return, she must bend to what he most wishes.”
“What weapons do I have, my lady? I am old, said to be willful, and of little virtue.”
“You have a spark within you that a good man will see and wish to encourage.” She touched Alana’s arm. “You survived a horrific beating and was banished from your home. Yet you find joy in your life, and pass it on.” She waved her arm at the tapestry, bright in the sun. “Once completed, your work will be hung in the Hall. Your work will be admired for its beauty, and for the warmth it brings, for generations. You have talent with a needle, yet you also have beauty, intelligence, and knowledge. A good man will be pleased with all you bring him.”
“I have far more knowledge than a wife should,” she admitted. “Laird Fraser allowed me free use of his library. I read things most men would not wish their wife to think on.”
“Then you should marry a man who appreciates a woman of wit and humor, one who will challenge him in ways he does not expect.” Lady Janet held up her finger in warning. “You must also soothe him when he is choleric, give your body freely to him, and bring forth his children, raising them to be all they can be. If you are lucky you will receive pleasure from his touch.”
“And where would I find this paragon of manly virtue?” Alana made a prune face. “Some of the lairds who visit are ignorant, arrogant, and stupid. I dinna ken how you can listen to their nonsense.”
“Patience, my dear,” she replied blandly. “I have learned to think of other things while they speak, such as chores needing to be done. And ‘tis not just women who must learn this. After some meetings, and only in our chamber, Alexander will stomp around and gnash his teeth to get rid of his frustration. And do other things,” she added. Her ears and cheeks turned pink though her eyes twinkled.
All knew the lord and lady enjoyed bedsport. Alana had listened when servants gossiped about what pleased a man. As with her knowledge of most things, she had no practical experience. The one time she’d demanded kisses, from a pair of brothers she still cared for, they’d left Caithness rather than touch her. It hadn’t stopped her from wondering what it would be like.
“I pray you are not afraid to marry, Alana.”
She bit her lip, considering. She could not access her extensive dowry unless she married. At that point it would become the property of her husband, as would she. If she could find a simple man, one she could manipulate, she might have a measure of freedom.
“I could stomach it, if he’s kind. And mayhaps tolerate his touch well enough if he is pleasant to me in our bedchamber.”
She’d not only managed to keep her opinions silent over the years, she’d kept her ears open. She’d listened when the laird spoke of animal husbandry, plans for the land, and disputes. She’d also listened to women in the laundry, the dairy, and anyone else who had something useful to say.
Lady Janet cocked her head. “If you could choose, what sort of husband would you wish for?”
Alana thought of the brothers who still filled her dreams. She’d humiliated them for refusing her kisses so no doubt they hated her. Yet no one else had made her heart pound and her blood sing. None would at this point. She could tolerate her duty to produce heirs if her husband would show her respect during the day.
“I wish f
or a man who discusses with me what is to be done before giving orders. I would like his form to be pleasing. He would hold himself well, be powerful in public yet gentle with me and our children. And I’d like him to play chess, not minding when I won.”
Lady Janet smiled ruefully, shaking her head. “The only man like that is my Alexander, and he’s taken.”
“Aye, Laird Fraser is a very good man. As I’ll never find one like him, I wish to remain as I am.”
Lady Janet’s smile faded. “Your wishes dinna matter, child. Your father needs grandsons. For the sake of your clan, you must do your duty. You will marry, and soon.”
“Why does he need my sons? I have two brothers and a sister, all older. Surely they have bairns?”
Lady Janet sank gracefully into her chair. She gestured for Alana to join her. They were almost knee-to-knee.
“John has a son and daughter. That is all there is.”
John was not like their vindictive father. He wished to do what was best for the clan. Her next brother, Henry, was jealous that John was the heir. He did everything he could to ingratiate himself with their father. The earl had even built him the Castle of Mey, facing Pentland Firth. Henry had been cruel to her as a child. She’d avoided him whenever possible.
“John could have more sons.”
“Aye, if he was still the Master of Caithness.”
“Was? Has my father passed over him to my brother Henry?”
“Much has happened while you were here. You didna ask of your family, so we said naught.”
Dread gripped her heart. “What has the earl done?”