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    Unlacing The Lady In Waiting
    Unlacing The Lady In Waiting
    Unlacing The Lady In Waiting
    Ebook62 pages1 hour

    Unlacing The Lady In Waiting

    By Amanda McCabe

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    Scotland, 1561.

    Lady Helen Frasier thought Highlanders were barbaric–until she shared an intimate encounter with her betrothed, James McKerrigan. Though their families were enemies, the Highland lord roused a surprising passion in Helen. Then she was chosen to become a lady in waiting to the queen, and their engagement was broken. Now, Helen has returned to Scotland and her jilted lover, who has vowed to take revenge and claim his promised bride.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateSep 1, 2011
    ISBN9781742922898
    Unlacing The Lady In Waiting
    Author

    Amanda McCabe

    Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance at sixteen – an historical epic starring her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class! She's never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA Award, Booksellers Best, National Readers Choice Award and the Holt Medallion. In her spare time she loves taking dance classes and collecting travel souvenirs. Amanda lives in New Mexico. Email her at: amanda@ammandamccabe.com

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      Book preview

      Unlacing The Lady In Waiting - Amanda McCabe

      Chapter One

      Scotland, 1559

      Lady Helen! Where are you? You know we can find you…

      Lady Helen Frasier ran faster along the garden path, one hand holding up the hem of her new white brocade gown. She clapped her hand hard over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Despite her dismal mood that day, it gave her great pleasure to evade her attendants. They wouldn’t find her—she would make sure of that.

      She ducked into the narrow entrance of the maze, and the high, prickly green walls of the hedges closed in around her. She couldn’t hear the calls of her maids any longer, or the noise from the house as her father’s servants prepared for the banquet. She couldn’t even hear the faint rush of the sea just beyond the estate’s high walls.

      She could only hear the sound of her own breath as she gasped for air in her stiff, embroidered bodice, and the crunch of her shoes on the gravel pathway. The pale gray sky arched over her head, full of shifting clouds that promised rain later, rain that would surely ruin her father’s plans for torch-lit dancing in the garden.

      Helen didn’t care if the whole cursed party was ruined, if the house fell down and the garden drowned. She never wanted tonight to come. She never wanted to leave this maze at all.

      Stopping to catch her breath, she pressed her hand to the stiff bodice over her abdomen, feeling the pearl beadwork press into her palm. The wind felt colder now, and bit through her thin gold tissue sleeves and over her bare shoulders. This was the finest gown she had ever worn, and usually she would revel in the fine fabric and stylish cut. It had come all the way from France, as had the garden designer and the cook who labored now in the kitchens to prepare the sumptuous banquet.

      She hated the new gown today. She wanted to rip it off.

      But she just took in another breath, as deep as she could, and shook back the heavy length of loose auburn hair from her shoulders. She was alone now; they couldn’t find her. This maze was her own world, where she wasn’t forced to say or do anything she didn’t want.

      In her dreamworld, she didn’t have to marry any blasted McKerrigan.

      Helen leaned her palms on her knees, bending over to let the sudden sick feeling pass. The brocade skirt slid against her palms. She closed her eyes tightly, but the memory of what happened a few days ago wouldn’t be dismissed.

      She heard her father’s stern voice again as he told her she would marry the son of their old family enemies the McKerrigans, felt again the cold panic that washed over her, drowning her. She saw his bearded face turn scarlet at her protests.

      None of us want this match, girl! he had shouted as she burst into tears. For a Frasier to wed a McKerrigan—it’s an abomination. But if we’re to survive it must be done. So cease your wailing!

      And she felt again his slap across her face, knocking her to the side.

      All her life she had been told the McKerrigans were wicked barbarians, nothing but cattle thieves and murderers, the enemies of the Lowland Frasiers for decades. And now, for reasons she could not fathom, she was to marry one.

      All her girlish dreams of dances and masques, of romance and splendor, were dying in the face of a bleak future with a crude McKerrigan. She had spent all her life at the mercy of her father’s cold will, feeling alone in his house, alone in the world. Now she would be alone in the home of a McKerrigan. When would she ever be herself? When would she ever have her own life?

      Helen pushed herself upright again, stiffening her shoulders, swallowing her tears. Very well—if the McKerrigans insisted on having her, she would make them very sorry. She would be the worst wife ever. She would find a way to make her own life even if she was trapped with them.

      She heard the faint echo of a shout from behind the maze, and abruptly she remembered where she was and that time was growing short. Her betrothal banquet was only a few hours away, flying closer with every minute. Soon she would have to go back to the house or her father would be furious.

      But not yet. Please to God, not yet!

      She picked up her skirts and ran again. She hurtled around corners, scarcely knowing what she was looking for. She

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