Regency propriety and Scot’s boldness clash in this historical suspense liberally dosed with humor.

Yvette Stapleton is wary of fortune hunting men and their false declarations of love. She’d rather become a spinster than imprisoned in the bonds of marriage. At first, she doesn’t recognize the dangerously handsome man who rescues her from assailants on London’s docks, but her reaction to Lord Sethwick’s kisses soon have her reconsidering her cynical views on matrimony.

Not a day has gone by that Ewan McTavish, Lord Sethwick and Laird of Craiglocky, hasn’t dreamed of the beauty he danced with two years ago. He’s determined to win her heart. On a mission to stop a War Office traitor, he unwittingly draws Yvette into deadly international intrigue. To protect her, he exploits Scottish Canon law to declare her his lawful wife””without benefit of a ceremony.

 Yvette is furious upon discovering the irregular marriage is legally binding, though she never said, “I do.”

This excerpt is when Yvette discovers she’s married to Ewan.

Escape.

Yvette stood on unsteady legs, grasping the table’s edge for balance. She strove for poised composure, despite feeling like a powerless pawn in a despicable game of human chess, played for the amusement of those who enjoyed tragic endings at the expense of someone else’s happiness””no””their very existence.

The Great Hall radiated silent tension. All eyes were on her. She looked at the strangers staring at her, their eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. Embarrassment, horror, dismay, pity, outrage, compassion, and yes””even a few smugly satisfied.

“You knew?” She looked to Hugh and Duncan, before swinging her gaze to Alasdair and Gregor. They bowed their heads in chagrin. Her turbid gaze swept the rest of Ewan’s family.

“You all knew?” Yvette searched Giselle’s sorrowful eyes, then Adaira’s tear-filled ones. “You must think me such a fool.” Her agonized whisper exposed her vulnerability. Her shame. Her absolute humiliation.

Ewan touched her arm. “Evvy”””

She whirled around. “Don’t you touch me,” she hissed between stiff lips.

Yvette knew her gaze was a mirror of desolation when she finally met his eyes. “How could you?” she whispered. “I trusted you.” She’d never make that mistake again.

He reached for her again. “Please . . .

She slapped away his hand. “Don’t.”

She clenched her teeth to still her quivering mouth and chin. Closing her eyes against the torrent of tears cascading down her face, she drew in a bracing breath.

Lord, give me the strength to walk from this room with my head held high.

On wooden legs, she stepped away from her chair.

Ewan grasped her elbow, restraining her. “Evvy, I don’t know what she told you, but . . .”

She could bear no more. With steadfast single-mindedness she sought to escape this place of insufferable pain. Backing away from the table, she shoved away the restraining hands. Like a wild animal, caught in a snare, she fought her way free.

Spinning around to face the door, she ran from the room. Her heart was breaking. A fresh, jagged, agonizing crack fracturing further with each stumbling step she took, until she feared the fragile vessel would shatter into nothingness, and she would exist no more, wanted to exist no more so intolerable was her pain.

In February 2011, Collette decided to sit down and write a Regency suspense romance with a few Highlander’s thrown in to spice things up a bit. She wrote Highlander’s Hope, the first book in her Blue Rose Trilogy. She has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching. She’s been married for 30 years, has 3 amazing adult children, and 5 dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You’ll always find dogs, birds, quirky””sometimes naughty””humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.