The Macgregor's Daughter

The Macgregor's Daughter

Dee Julian

Price: $5.95


 In 1776 England, American born Anadreya Macgregor is branded a spy by the arrogant Marquis of Canderlay. Despite her pleas of innocence, he refuses to listen and has her imprisoned. Aided by the Scottish father she never knew, Dreya escapes to Dragon's Breath Castle.

Five years later, the laird is missing and a badly injured Frenchman washes ashore. Dreya is wary of the blind and amnesic man, though something about him is hauntingly familiar. Is he an ally or a ruthless mercenary who stumbled upon her father's smuggling activities?

The stranger's vision and memory gradually return and Dreya discovers her fate and the continued existence of her clan might very well be in his hands. As the web of deception binding them together unravels, both are in danger of losing everything. Including their hearts.

PUBLISHED BY: Wild Child Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-935013-87-7
CATEGORIES: Historical, Action/Adventure, Romantic Fiction
KEYWORDS: Scottish historical, historical romance, Scotland, American Revolution

EBOOKS BY Wild Child Publishing

EBOOKS BY Dee Julian

COPYRIGHT Dee Julian/2009

 Please, please open!

Determined to conquer her rising fear, Dreya forced a slow breath and tried again. Finally, the key turned inside the rusty lock, and the gate creaked open. She exhaled a breath of relief.

Until a strong arm snaked around her waist.

Do not scream!

His hand closed over her mouth, and her heart raced with dread.

"What's your hurry, my sweet?" a male voice droned in her ear.

His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. By the polished tone of his voice, he wasn't one of the king's guards. Probably a guest who'd wandered away from the masquerade ball.

"Do you know how this entrance to Queen's House differs from all the others?" He removed his hand from her mouth and spun her around. "It's generally used for secret liaisons."

Dreya steadied her nerves. This man stood a good five inches taller than she, but darkness hid his features. If she ran, he would catch her in no time.

"How dare you touch me," she snapped, assuming the proper English accent. "Release me at once."

"I apologize, my lady, but allowing you the opportunity to disappear beyond this wall is not an option."

Did he recognize her? No, he would've called the guards.

Dreya gathered her wits and sweetened her tone. "My lord, apparently you've confused me with someone else. Now, if you don't mind--"

"Oh, but I do." His fingers brushed her chin before they inched upward. "You removed your mask. What a pity. I would've enjoyed the task."

Dreya inched away.

He followed. "You're quite the mystery, slipping away before the unmasking hour."

The awkward silence stretched for several moments.

"Why did you leave the ball?" he demanded.

"I grew bored."

"I can offer a cure."

Dreya backed into the wall, and the rough stone scraped her palms. His seductive tone left little doubt as to why he'd followed her. "How very gallant, my lord, but I'm...."

"Late for another liaison?"

She didn't bother responding to the vulgar suggestion.

He trapped her against the wall. "I'd be happy to take his place."

"And I'd be pleased if you stepped aside."

"A bit eager are we, my lady?"

"Only to be rid of your company, my lord."

He laughed low. "No gentleman escort and too inexperienced to be a man's mistress, so more than likely...." His pleasant tone changed in an abrupt manner. "You're a thief! If I searched your bodice, would I find a collection of stolen jewels?"

How dare this pompous idiot!

Outraged, Dreya stomped on his foot.

He swore beneath his breath.

She dashed toward the gate.

He snatched the hood of her cape and yanked her back against his chest. "I admire your spirit, my lady, but you've just committed a foolish mistake."

"Let go of me."

His hands slid down her arms. "Is the word 'please' not in your vocabulary?"

Dreya gritted her teeth. "What do you want?"

"An interesting question, but first...." Again, he spun her around. "Who are you?"

"Who are you? And why have you accosted me?"

"Any lady who attends a ball yet refuses to join in the festivities is worthy of attention. Wouldn't you agree? As to your first question...." He tucked a finger beneath her chin. "I'm the gentleman who intends to call the king's guards unless you tell me your name within the next five seconds."

She released a nervous breath. "Ana."

"Now, that wasn't so difficult, was it? Do you possess a surname?"

Dreya changed the subject. "My lord, I understand your suspicions." She slipped one hand inside her pocket. "But I'm no thief." Her fingers closed around the handle of the pistol. "I merely overheard a guest speaking of this secret entrance and thought to see it for myself."

"How did you obtain a key to the gate?"

"I borrowed it. Now let me pass."

"You're in no position to make demands, Lady Ana."

With the utmost satisfaction, Dreya withdrew the pistol and shoved the barrel beneath his chin. "I disagree, my lord."


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