Chapter 1

May 1778

"You'll marry him," Mrs. Parker said sternly.

"I'll not," Riona replied, just as forcefully.

That had been the extent of their conversation all the way from Edinburgh.

The world had gone mad; Riona McKinsey was sure of it. Should she forget that fact for even a moment, Mrs. Adelaide Parker, late of London, was there to remind her. The formidable woman sat opposite her in the darkened carriage, her arms folded across her chest, her toes tapping against the floor, her heavy sighs making Riona feel alternately uncomfortable and beyond irritated.

Mrs. Parker had declined to light the lamps, no doubt reasoning that since Riona was going to perdition she might as well have a taste of it beforehand.

Riona's sister sat beside her in the darkness, daintily sobbing into her handkerchief. Of the two of them, Maureen made her feel worse.

The coach rumbled on, despite the fact that it was a moonless night. Landscape, however, was no obstacle to the re-doubtable Mrs. Parker. She had stared down kings and queens of society. What was a treacherous road in comparison?

Riona wedged herself more firmly into the corner, using a finger to lift the leather shade. There was no scenery to observe other than shrouded bushes and darkly shadowed trees.

She should, perhaps, be formulating a plan, thinking of some words to assuage her mother. Her throat was hoarse from speaking blandishments to Mrs. Parker, and attempting to make her see reason.

Mrs. Parker had declared her ruined, and so she was.

Her mother, however, was not so devoid of sense as her chaperone. Susanna would see the situation as it was and judge her accordingly.

Why was it that a woman had to prove herself twice over and a man's words were taken at face value?

She'd had absolutely no intention of slipping into the garden with Harold McDougal. Nor would she have willingly remained there and agreed to the ruination of her reputation. But the man had neatly captured her with words. Not those of a romantic nature, but of a sisterly one.

"My dear Miss McKinsey, your sister is in the garden, weeping. Could you not lend her your aid?"

She'd not thought twice. Maureen had been emotional of late, believing herself in love with the dashing Captain Hastings. To make matters worse, the young man had not been able to attend the gathering that evening, being newly posted to Fort George. She'd seen Maureen dabbing at her eyes herself, and never thought twice about going to her side.

Except that Maureen was not in the darkened garden sitting on a stone bench.

She whirled on Harold, only to have him grip her bare arm with his damp hand. Deliberately, she pulled away.

"I have been captivated by you from the first, Miss Mcinsey. Say you feel the same and I'll be the happiest man in all the world."

"I have met you on but two occasions, sir," she said. "Have I given you any indication that such familiarity would be welcome?"

"You have smiled at me, Miss McKinsey." His voice was low and soft and no doubt meant to be seductive. Instead, it was merely repellent. "And I have been fascinated by the sparkle in your beautiful eyes. I have never been privileged to see such a shade of silver before."

Copyright © 2007 by Karen Ranney.