At Your Pleasure by Meredith Duran

Author:Meredith Duran
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781451606959
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2012-03-26T23:00:00+00:00

Adrian had called his men to gather in the great hall, around a long, scarred table where Colvilles had feasted when Hodderby was yet a hunting lodge. The atmosphere was primitive; rough-hewn stone buttresses supported a ceiling lost in darkness far overhead, and torches fixed in recesses spilled a violent light across the uneven flagstones.

This chamber had witnessed the strategizing of war parties in times when bloodshed had been the mark of manhood. It was not a room for hesitation or scruples, and his mood allowed for none. He felt ablaze, as though victory was already his.

He fully expected her anger once she discovered the whole of it. But by then, she would have no say in its outcome. Hatred was the privilege of the living, whose minds could be changed. And he would change hers. Eventually she would understand that he’d had no choice in it. Even in this civilized age, the games of kings did not allow mercy for women who aided treason. She would be made to see how Adrian’s actions had spared her from sharing her brother’s fate.

Around the table, his men took their seats restlessly, drumming fingers and tapping feet. Over the past five years, he had enlisted each of them precisely for the qualities that made these past few days such a trial. A soft bed, a warm fire, regular meals—had these men craved such, they might have followed their fathers’ footsteps, becoming cobblers or craftsmen, wherrymen or tailors. But to a man, they had rebelled at their families’ legacies.

His enemies sneered at his followers’ motley genealogies. It did not bother Adrian. He understood the advantage of tradesmen’s sons turned soldiers, having experienced firsthand what unique zeal was born of being told, again and again, that one’s nature made one unfit for one’s appetites.

Lord John entered last, sullenly, his right eye swollen to a slit. He took a seat slightly apart from the other men. For all that his father had spoiled him with indulgences, he had been born with a backbone; he took care to fix Adrian with a defiant look as he whipped out his knife—though his courage then failed him, for after a moment’s hesitation, he put himself to trimming his nails.

Braddock caught Adrian’s eye and loosed a speaking snort.

Adrian allowed himself a smile. “Grooming,” he said. “You would do well to master the concept.”

Braddock, understanding him perfectly, ran a hand over his scraggly beard and chuckled.

Without further preamble, Adrian lifted the letter he’d received on his return to the manse this afternoon. “Lord Mar has raised the Jacobite banner at Kirkmichael,” he said.

Silence fell.

“He leads a progress to gather recruits. Parliament has authorized additional troops to be mustered to Fort William to answer him. The Duke of Argyll has taken the command.”

Mutters rose from his men. “Action?” Henslow inquired.

“As of yet, very little,” Adrian said. “A failed attempt to seize Edinburgh Castle.”

Braddock whistled. “Seize the castle? There’s hardihood.”

Peters, short and deceptively slim, guffawed over his cup. “Or lunatic stupidity.”

“The latter,” Adrian said.

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