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Strictly Taboo(111)

By:Lisa Cartwright


“Whatever you say, honey. Just don't let me catch them wandering around the house.” Art laughed. One of the things he loved most about Grace was her lack of knowledge of most things relating to their future ranch.

“I'm pretty sure that won't be anything to worry about.” Art said. “Have you ever seen a full sized steer?” He asked. Grace shook her head. “Well, don't worry about one fitting through the front door, okay?” Art said. Sure she was being made fun of, Grace swatted him playfully on the arm.

“No making fun of the pregnant woman carrying your child!” She said, pouting. Art’s face softened and he pulled her to him.

“I'm sorry darlin’, you are just so darned cute.” He said, kissing her forehead gently.

“You're still making fun of me aren't you?” She asked, glancing at him sideways. Art shackled and shook his head.

“No ma’am, I would do no such thing. Besides, I know much better than to tease a pregnant woman.” He said with a wink. Grace eyed him.

“Hmm, well you'd better be nice or you're going to find yourself sleeping with that hundred heads of cattle out in the barn.” She said.

“Pasture.” Art corrected.

“Pasture.” Grace repeated. “Either way, you'll be sleeping with them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said obediently. “How about me and you go home and get some supper?” He reached down and slipped his fingers around hers. Grace smiled.

“I think that sounds perfect.” She said.



The End



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The Highlander’s Bride





By: Lisa Cartwright





 Copyright 2015 by (Lisa Cartwright) - All rights reserved.





In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.



Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.





Chapter One

The day was gloomy and the mood somber at best, as laird Angus Blake fought to open his heavy eyelids, which gave way to deep blue-grey eyes. Sleep was his preference on a cold day in March when his devoted Mother Blair, Lady of Fife would be interned at Dunfermline. She had been Lord Donald Blake’s (father of Angus) obsession from the moment he laid his piercing eyes on the fair lass. Their romance was storied throughout Scotland, which preceded tales of his despotic ways before he met Blair McTavish. Angus’ faithful servant banged on the heavy oak door of his room.

“Come in if you must Rufus but ye not bother unless you come with breakfast in hand.” Angus’ servant entered the room warmed by the raging fire arranged for him before sunrise. Angus was an easygoing man but he insisted his quarters be warm when he woke. Rufus knew too well that failing to keep the fire stoked resulted in verbal punishment and embarrassment in front of all.

Rufus presented laird Angus Blake with his morning repast, atop a heavy pewter tray. Angus had smelled the cook roasting boar outside the day before. He was pleased to taste the product of the savory odor. Cook knew to include his favorite, the end piece torn from a loaf of hearty brown bread.

“If you don’t mind me speaking sir.”

“Go on.”

“Tis not just rumor that ye father’s temperament of old has returned. He is no longer the benevolent ruler of Fife. The one I have come to know as of late. I can handle myself but it is you my liege for whom I have concern. Your departed mother bestowed upon him many girls in the names of Alena, Enya and Maisie. They cannot inherit or produce a suitable heir with which to continue the lineage. Leaving only you to produce a fitting heir to the kingdom. If ye don’t find a suitable wife soon, I fear you will be given one of your father’s choosing.”

Angus knew his father Lord Donald Blake would arrange a politically beneficial marriage. One that would guarantee he could add to the acreage of his kingdom. Angus would be better off picking a woman from the dodgy end of the village. His father loved his mother so deeply and he would be jealous if Angus found the same. Lady Blair’s death could have brought out the best in Lord Blake but it clearly did not. It was as if she had cast a spell of contentment upon him, which blew away like the wind when she expired. He needed to come up with a plan to leave the estate house and Fife entirely so he could find a wife on his own.

“Your loyalty to me will be tested in the days to come Rufus. I have come to rely on you and I trust I can continue to do so.”

Rufus had been by Angus’ side since he was sucking on the wet nurse. The skinny man of short stature came with no family or friends to speak of; his life was committed to Angus. Like a carrot dangling before him, Rufus was promised a woman of his own someday. Angus said he would arrange for him a woman with an ample bosom who smelled sweet of lavender. Rufus was rarely out of line but if he was, Angus threated to make sure he would remain a virgin for life.