Chapter One

​

     Flora Grant was a fool for returning to Scotland.

​

     She paced back and forth across the small confines of the bedchamber she had chosen. She no longer cared if another servant heard her frustration. When she first arrived home, she had been careful to avoid the other servants so they wouldn’t notice her agitation. However, the longer she waited for the thorn of her existence to arrive, the more her fury built to an astronomical degree. Flora refused to wait for him by sitting in a rocking chair like the demure governess she should be.

​

       While Flora had always been one to speak her mind surrounded by her friends and family, she presented herself as the opposite in the company of her employer and the other servants. They thought of her as a soft-spoken governess who was amicable to the demands required of her. She attempted to limit the attention to her to a minimal degree. The flaming red tresses of her hair, along with the voluptuous curves she tried to keep hidden under her dull dresses, garnered her enough unwanted attention.

​

       Flora always wore her hair in a tight bun with a cap and loose-fitting dresses to blend in with the other servants. Never one to raise her voice for any reason, she had everyone convinced she was but a shy lass too timid to voice her displeasure at anything unpleasant. Even as they waited for their employer to show, the other servants fussed and worried daily about the unusual circumstances. But Flora kept quiet from them and her friends.

​

       Her friends had meant well with their concern when they kept offering for her to reside with them until her employer arrived. But her pride had kept her from accepting their kind gestures. Her pride had always been her downfall, and now she regretted refusing them. If she hadn’t denied Vivian’s and Grace’s offers, she wouldn’t face the dilemma that would soon knock on her door.

​

       Oh, but Lord Hepburn wouldn’t arrive at her door as a civilized lord. No. He would barge in like the boorish barbarian of a Scot he was. Lord Hepburn? Lennox was no more a lord than she was a demure governess. To what lengths had he gone to create the farce of a situation? And why? Even more to question, had her family learned she had returned to Scotland? If so, they would invade the simple life she had created. She must devise a plan to leave at first light.

​

       She should pack her belongings and make her escape before Lennox returned from Lord Lockhart’s. However, her curiosity was her gravest downfall and would be her demise that evening. Once she learned the reason for his deceit, she would make him false promises and steal away. Her only option would be to escape to Vivian’s home. Hopefully, her friend could convince her husband, Lord Courtland, to provide passage to an unknown destination.

​

       Anywhere but Scotland. England wasn’t a possibility either, because of the scandal she had involved herself in with her friends. Her only options were Ireland or the Continent. Ireland was too near to Scotland to stay hidden from her family. That left the Continent to escape to.

​

       She loved her family something fierce, but their interference had caused her to flee from her dire circumstances. If it weren’t for her meddling brothers, she would’ve never run away to England. She laid the blame on them for her current predicament. Because of the trouble they had caused with the neighboring clans, her parents would’ve never sacrificed her to keep peace. Instead, she suffered while they were allowed to resume their tomfoolery.

​

       In Flora’s agitated state of mind, she failed to hear Lord Hepburn’s carriage arrive. Nor did she hear his footfall approach her bedchamber. The door flew open as she turned to stalk another path across the cramp confines of her chamber. The rush of air blew out the candle near the bed, leaving only the flames from the fireplace to cast light upon the room.

​

       Lennox made for a daunting figure standing in the doorframe with his topcoat billowing around him. Droplets of rain formed a puddle on the floor at his feet. He swiped a hand through his wet locks while his gaze centered on Flora. The sheer size of him alone filling the modest space would have sent any other servant scurrying for protection. However, his size was the only menacing aspect of him.

​

      The breadth of his shoulders stretched the width of the doorframe. The strength of his physical activities molded his arms and legs into solid muscle. Lennox was never one to sit idly by reading a book for pleasure. Nor would one inch of him ever be mistaken for a dandy lord. No. He worked his days into nights toiling with his men, except for when he caroused for trouble. Trouble that landed her in turmoil.

​

       However, he had never intimidated her before, and she wouldn’t allow him to now. She growled in her displeasure at his display of an arrival. Flora rushed across the room and dragged him inside before any servant caught sight of him lingering in the doorway. She placed her finger on her lips to signal for him to stay silent. But of course, the fool refused to comply with her wish.

​

       “Ah, lass. Is that any way to greet your—”

​

       Flora clamped her hand over his mouth. “Do not dare utter those words.”

​

       Flora couldn’t risk anyone overhearing how Lennox would address her. Her very livelihood rested on keeping her secret only between them. She kept his mouth covered, waiting for him to show he understood the need for his silence, but the man only set out to raise her agitation to the next level.

​

       The press of his lips against her palm in a gentle kiss had her soft gasp whispering in the air between them. With boldness, his tongue replaced his lips with a stroke that had her lingering a second too long before jerking away from him. She curled her hand into a fist behind her back. However, judging from the lift of the smirk on his face, she wasn’t swift enough to hide her reaction.

​

       She silently cursed herself and the effect he held over her common sense. Why, of all the Scottish men, did that one cloud her judgement? She must keep her wits about her if she hoped to escape later. To do so, she must keep a respectable distance between them and not allow him any liberties.

​

       Keeping her voice low, Flora murmured, “I know not the game you play, but your explanation can wait until mornin’.”

​

       Lennox took a step forward. “I play no game, my lass.”

​

       Flora took two steps backwards and cocked an eyebrow. “Lord Hepburn?”

​

       Lennox’s smile only grew wider. “Aye, ‘tis my name, my love.”

​

       Flora gritted her teeth and hissed, “I am not your lass nor your love. Please cease with your declaration of false endearments.”

​

       Much to her annoyance, he closed the space between them in one stride, trapping her against the wall. He only had to wrap his arms around her if she attempted to move in either direction. Flora knew from experience how he would react if she attempted to escape his clutches. She had countless experiences in attempting to rid herself of the barbarian. And every time, he caught her unaware. However, she had grown wiser during their time apart and refused to resign her patience, no matter how much he taxed her nerves.

​

       Flora stood up straighter by throwing her shoulders back, lifting her chin, and returning his bold stare with one of indifference. However, her confidence only amused Lennox further. His soft chuckle matched the twinkle in his eyes. She swore the green flecks danced in merriment against the soft brown shade. So caught in his expression, she failed to see his arm rise until it was too late.

​

       Lennox leaned closer and cupped her cheek. His warm palm offered her warmth after the chill of his arrival back into her life. As much as she denied any affection for him, her body begged differently. Against her accord, her stance softened, relaxing into his touch. Her battle of wills fought against one another. However, she refused to betray herself because one Scottish oaf affected her senses beyond any explainable reason.

       He whispered in her ear, “Nothing I speak is false where you are concerned, Flora, my dear.”

​

       Flora shoved against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “Every word you utter is false.”

​

       Lennox traced his thumb across her bottom lip. “Never toward you, lass.”

​

       Her lip singed from his bold touch. A fiery sensation took a hold of her and spread throughout her limbs, begging for him to continue. She only had to turn her head and their lips would caress each other. But that would be a colossal mistake if she planned to escape later. Because one kiss wouldn’t satisfy either of them if she allowed such proclivities. Her pause gave him permission to continue.

​

       However, before he could press his mouth to hers, Flora ducked and slipped away, rushing toward the door. She attempted to draw in a ragged breath to calm her desires; instead, a soft groan slid past her lips. She didn’t have a moment to understand why she felt a profound loss from not having his mouth pressed against hers. He must leave before anyone discovered them alone. And in her bedchamber, no less.

​

       Flora grabbed the door handle. “You must leave at once. We can discuss your trickery tomorrow. In which, you will send a request for my attendance in your study through the butler. Only then will we share a conversation.”

​

       Lennox ignored Flora’s attempt to remove him from her presence. Instead, he roamed around her bedchamber, picking up her personal items before setting them back down again. When he reached for the ribbons hanging on the mirror stand and entwined them between his fingers, Flora had to bite back another groan. It was as if he caressed her hair with how his touch gentled against the delicate trimmings. How could one compare two acts that didn’t relate? When he reached the frame of the bed tucked in the bedchamber’s corner, a frown of disapproval transformed his features. He slowly pivoted in a circle as he noted the size of the bedchamber.

​

       Lennox focused his attention once again on Flora. “Why are you not in the bedchamber I assigned to you?”

​

       “’Tis inappropriate for someone of my standings,” Flora stammered.

​

       His gaze narrowed. “But one I requested for you to have.”

​

       Flora cringed when the door creaked as she turned the handle. “This bedchamber is closer to the children.”

​

       Lennox quirked an eyebrow. “There are no children.”

​

       She pulled the door open and swept her hand for him to leave. “A matter we shall discuss tomorrow.”

​

       Lennox stood inside the doorway. His blatant stare raked her form, lingering on her chest as she drew in one ragged breath after another. She didn’t know if her uncontrollable breathing was from her irritation with him or how his closeness wrapped her in a cloak of undeniable need.

​

       “Yet,” Lennox murmured before striding away.

​

       That one word was a gauntlet thrown down of his intention for his return to her life. He meant it as a promise, while Flora only saw it as a threat to her peace of mind and what sanity she held. Each second within his presence, her sanity seemed to whittle away to where she had nothing to cling to. The very reason she must flee from him.

​

       “Never!” Flora swore under her breath.