Title: The Wooing of Keeva MacKai: Keeva’s Story - MacKai Brides Book Two
Author: Rue Allyn
Genre: Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Novella
Book Blurb:
Scottish Lady Keeva MacKai may be the worst thing that ever happened to English Lord Randal Du Grace. When these two determined enemies meet, are broken hearts guaranteed, or might the result be a love for the ages?
She’s kidnapped!
Keeva MacKai wakes in a strange English Castle with no idea how she got there. When she at last learns that her host is her brother-in-law, Lord Randal Du Grace, she is finally able to confront him about her kidnapping and keeping her isolated in her chambers. The confrontation results in her freedom to come and go as she pleases. However, she must do so under guard at all times. Still, her host continues to avoid her. How can she convince him to send her home if he won’t speak to her? How can she protect her heart, if she can’t tell him the truth?
He’s dumbstruck!
Lord Randal Du Grace is puzzled by the unexpected arrival of a sick unconscious woman who in her fever raves about his brother Simon. No message or note was sent with the woman and she cannot explain herself. After she recovers, she claims she is Lady Keeva MacKai, sister to the Du Grace brothers. Randal can only take things at face value until his brother returns home to explain how it was that Lady MacKai was sent to the Du Grace home. But Randal has a problem while he’s waiting. He finds Lady Keeva quite attractive. Thus, Randal shouldn’t be taking her at all, since he believes her promised to his brother. The only solution is to avoid her at all costs. He succeeds until she recovers her health, forces a confrontation, and tells Randal the unthinkable.
Excerpt:
Castle Blancmer, the Lancashire Coast, Mid-November 1295
“Come in” Randal growled when a third knock at the book room door once more broke his concentration on the column of numbers he was trying to add. First it had been his captain of the guard asking about disciplinary measures for a squire caught stealing grain. Then Mistress Weaver needed his approval for purchase of a new cauldron for the laundresses. This third interruption was very unwelcome.
The door opened allowing a gust of air to fan the flames in the room’s braiser.
“My Lord.”
The voice belonged to one of the many maids in the castle. Until his aunt arrived—soon, hopefully—the only woman at Blancmer not in his employ was his unwanted guest.
“What? Can’t you see I’m busy.” He did not bother looking up.
“Lady Keeva MacKai wishes to speak with you.”
“I don’t wish to speak to her. Please tell her that, when next you see her.” He continued trying to add the numbers once again.
“She won’t have to.”
That quiet voice raised his head. All thought of numbers fled as he studied his unwanted—at least she should be unwanted—guest.
He’d been right: her eyes, her hair, her lips and skin, her lush body, all were as he’d imagined they might be.
I am not pleased to see her.
She crossed the floor to stand arms akimbo before his desk, attempting to look fierce and looming. She was neither small nor tall, but the beauty that shone in and on her made her look more like an angry kitten than a lioness.
“God’s wounds, what are you doing here?” He tried to sound cross and irritated. He was cross and irritated, so he shouldn’t have to try.
She lifted one hand and pointed an index finger at his nose.
He couldn’t prevent the impulse to shift backward, creating more distance between him and the digit. Pointing in such a manner was rude, but he found himself wanting to grasp that finger with his teeth and suck.
“I insist that you cease my imprisonment this instant! I must be allowed access to the castle and grounds at my pleasure. If you wish one of your guards to accompany me as well as a maid, I will tolerate that. What I cannot and will not allow is being treated like a prisoner. I doubt very much that your sister or her husband, my brother, will look kindly on you for your rudeness to me. Nor would they take kindly to your neglect of my soul. Why have you not at the very least sent a priest, if you could not give me freedom of your home, or have the courtesy to see me for yourself?”
The pointing hand and arm retreated to join their opposite crossed beneath her breasts.
What a relief. Truly.
The crossed arms created the most distracting display. He fisted his hands in his lap to force control on himself. She was magnificent but completely in the wrong.
He almost laughed. His sister Jessamyn could present a formidable front to any who did not know the true kindness of her nature. Her reaction to his behavior toward this MacKai woman was an empty threat. Laird MacKai’s reaction was a different matter, but the letter sent when the sweet termagant opposite to him had arrived would soothe any feathers ruffled with that man. That and the promise to make right any wrong Simon may have committed.
“Lady MacKai, I have had every care of your person. You arrived ill and unexpected. I had a physician treat you, and when he explained the cause of your poor health, I took action to protect your person and your reputation. That protection includes no private appointments with any man, a priest included.”
Her jaw dropped momentarily, and her brow furrowed. “How could you possibly imagine that keeping a guest locked in a chamber, no matter how delightful and luxurious, was appropriate for any reason? Ordering servants not to speak to a guest and never offering any explanation for your callousness is beyond belief. Such treatment is worse than rude, especially when directed at someone you scarcely know but who can claim the obligations of family should I choose to do so.”
He began to lose patience with this woman who refused to keep the place where he’d put her. “It is because of your relationship with the Du Grace family, that I ordered you to be sequestered in the Lady Chambers.”
“No MacKai would ever treat any guest in such a way.”
“I am not a MacKai.” He stood, leaned forward, hands fisted and arms braced on his desk.
She did not retreat. She moved closer and echoed his pose from the other side of the oaken slab. The span of a man’s hand separated his mouth from hers.
“That, my lord, is painfully obvious. You are a churl, and no MacKai. St. Andrew’s bones, you’re not even a gentleman.”
It wasn’t true. But he’d avoided flirtation for the past two years or so in anticipation of his now canceled wedding. His courtly manners were perhaps rusty.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
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What’s your favorite part about being a romance author?
Traveling to different times and places with my readers.
Here’s my tip to add romance to your love life:
Say ‘I Love You’ at least once every day.
Giveaway –
One lucky reader will win a $75 Amazon gift card.
Open internationally.
Runs February 1 – 29, 2024
Drawing will be held on March 1, 2024.
Author Biography:
I’m Rue Allyn, and mostly I’m about writing stories, books about heart melting romance. Books about characters and adventures in which love triumphs at the darkest moment. The kind of
suspenseful
hopeful
cathartic
romance
that melts a reader’s heart.
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