Secrets never stay buried for long…
Reluctant heiress Lady Morven Weston is tired of her mother interfering in her love affairs. At almost twenty-six there’s only so many more society balls she can attend before resigning herself to life as an unmarried maid.
But when Lord Fraser Napier, the man Morven ran wild with one long, hot summer, returns to Scotland, his shocking revelations change everything. Fraser never annulled their whirlwind marriage all those years ago!
Preparing to take up his ancestral seat, Fraser’s not letting go of his secret bride that easily—he needs an heir. It’s only a matter of time before Morven surrenders to Fraser’s seductive touch and finds herself in his bed…
The next exquisite Regency romance from Raven McAllan, The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride will whisk you off your feet and sweep you into an opulent world of scandal, secrets and desire!
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The Rake’s Unveiling of Lady Belle
The Duke’s Seduction of Lady M
The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride
Raven McAllan
RAVEN MCALLAN
lives in Scotland, the land of lochs, glens, mountains, haggis, men in kilts (sometimes) and midges. She enjoys all of them—except midges. They’re not known as the scourge of Scotland for nothing. Her long-suffering husband has learned how to work the Aga, ignore the dust bunnies who share their lives, and pour the wine when necessary. Raven loves history, which is just as well, considering she writes Regency romance, and often gets so involved in her research she forgets the time. She loves to travel, and says she and her hubby are doing their gap year in three-week stints. All in the name of research of course.
She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her on Twitter: @RavenMcAllan or via her website: ravenmcallan.com
Charlotte and the team at Carina, thank you for all your hard work. I really appreciate it.
Doris my beta reader and the RavDor chicks for their support.
And Paul for ignoring the dust bunnies, and accepting a wife who forgets she's put the dinner in the Aga three hours earlier.
To Marguerite Kaye for pushing me, (and sharing the wine.)
Contents
At eighteen Morven thought herself in love.
At twenty she knew it had been no such thing.
At twenty-one she wondered if such a thing as love existed.
At twenty-five she got the chance to find out.
“Kintrain
September 1810
My dearest love,
I miss you with an intensity I have never felt before. Why did we allow ourselves to be separated like this? Why did I meekly wave goodbye when it was time for you to go? Am I that weak? Lord I hope not.
I know my own mind, know I do not want to be apart from you. You said on that last magical day together that you would be with me wherever. We promised each other that our love would last, and here I am alone and wondering why I could not put us first. Why I accepted that I have to do what is best for the estate and the people it supports. I never thought myself weak, but now I wonder.
It’s hard, nigh impossible to imagine life without you. I feel I have lost half of myself—the better half.
Will you come with me? Or follow me if not?
I have to go to Barbados and take over the plantation for the next few years—we know that. The livelihood of too many people is