Spotlight: The Highlander's Kilted Bride by Vanessa Kelly

Publisher: Zebra (August 22, 2023)

Mass Market Paperback: 352 pages

The youngest brother in Clan Kendrick has become a charismatic force in his own right—especially when the perfect woman gallops into his life—in the latest novel in USA Today bestselling author Vanessa Kelly’s sparkling Scottish Regency series.

Charlotte “Charlie” Stewart would rather don a kilt and ride her horse than simper in a ballroom. But with her younger sister about to be wed, she can’t escape the pressure to be next. A husband has been chosen, and Charlie’s fate seems set. Until an afternoon gallop sends her horse colliding with Kade Kendrick, the broad-shouldered Highlander who was once her childhood pal . . .

As a youth, Kade felt overshadowed by his older siblings. Now he’s a renowned musician whose fame provides cover for his other work—as a spy. Home from his latest mission, he’s annoyed to be roped into attending the wedding of a family friend—until it reunites him with the fearless tomboy who has become a breathtaking beauty. And though his thoughts should be on a new concerto, Kade is soon distracted by rival suitors, a dangerous quest—and the unconventional woman who fills his soul with music and his body with desire .

Excerpt

Kade Kendrick, a renowned musician and spy for the British Crown, is too busy to fall in love. But then he encounters Charlotte “Charlie” Stewart, a long-ago childhood friend now grown into a fascinating and beautiful woman. Still, he doesn’t have room in his life for romance. His family, however, has other ideas…

His shoulder propped against a stone column, Kade watched Charlie take to the ballroom floor for the first waltz of the evening. Her partner was a dandified fellow dressed in wide, pleated pants and sporting pomaded hair. He gave her a flourishing bow, and Charlie eyed him with a startled expression before dipping a shallow curtsy.

Kade had debated asking her for the first waltz. He was more attracted to Charlie than he cared to admit, and spending time with her would only strengthen that attraction. Since the Kendricks would be leaving Laroch Manor in a few days, it was best to limit their time together as best he could without giving offense.

Of course, Charlie was doing her best to avoid him. Yes, there had been the last-minute flurry of wedding preparations, along with the arrival of numerous guests, to distract her. Still, it was clear she was dodging his company and not making the least effort to hide it.

That was beginning to annoy him more than it should.

When someone bumped into him, Kade straightened up. A petite young lady with an elaborately coiled and feathered coiffure that added almost a foot to her height gave him a blushing smile.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” he said. “It’s rather a crush, isn’t it?”

“It’s my fault entirely, Mr. Kendrick,” she replied, madly fluttering her fan. “I didn’t see you there, although I have been wanting to speak with you this last half hour. Your performance tonight was simply wonderful. I’ve never heard anything like it. Mamma—Lady Torbay, you know—said it was utterly transporting.”

Ah, now he remembered her.

Kade had been introduced to Lady Torbay and her two daughters, as well as several dozen other guests whose names were now but a dim memory.

“You’re very kind, Lady Constance. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

She gazed soulfully up at him. “I don’t think I’ve heard anything more elevating in my life. Your playing seemed to take me right out of myself, as if I were . . .”

“Transported?” Kade said after a few moments of rather fraught silence.

She pressed a hand to his arm. “Exactly! My dear sir, Mamma was wondering if you would be so kind as to join us for tea.” She shot him a coy look from under her eyelashes. “We’ve already secured a table in the supper room. It’s quite cozy and away from all this dreadful noise and heat. I’m sure you must be dreadfully parched after your performance. After all, you play with such drama and passion.”

She took a step closer, virtually backing him up against the column. From the blush in her cheeks and the determined glint in her gaze, Kade feared that Lady Constance might be overcome with passion right in the middle of the ballroom.

Angus suddenly appeared, having slipped deftly between two portly gentlemen. “Och, laddie, there ye are. I’ve been lookin’ all over for ye.”

“Grandda, do you remember Lady Constance? I believe you met her last night.”

His grandfather eyed the young woman. “Aye, Torbay’s daughter. Just saw yer da up in the cardroom, lass.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Lookin’ a wee bit worse for wear, I’m sorry to say. Probably best if he sits the next hand out, if ye catch my drift.”

Lady Constance jerked her hand from Kade’s arm as if stung by a wasp.

“I have no idea what you mean, Mr. MacDonald. If you’ll forgive me, sir,” she said to Kade, “I must return to my mother.”

“Please give her my regards, and thank you for—”

Lady Constance turned on her heel and shoved her way between the portly—and now protesting—gentlemen.

Kade shook his head. “Grandda, you are utterly ruthless.”

“Saved ye, didn’t I? Torbay’s a gambler, pockets to let all the time. And his lady will scold yer ears off. Best steer clear of that lot.”

“Perhaps Lady Torbay is a scold because her husband keeps losing their money? Nor is that his daughter’s fault.”

Angus waved a hand. “I hate to break it to ye, but that lassie wasn’t making sheep’s eyes at ye because of yer good looks or yer piano noodlin’. It’s Kendrick money she’s after.”

Kade laughed. “Now, there’s a blow to my ego, but I thank you for the rescue all the same. She was trying to drag me off to tea with her mother.”

“Never fear, lad. I willna let the dragons get their claws in ye.” Angus glanced over at the dance floor. “There’s another lassie ye should be dancin’ with, though.”

“And who is that, Grandda?”

“Jinglebrains. Ye ken exactly who it is. And why yer lettin’ some idiot in balloon pants take yer place is beyond me. Ye should be protectin’ Charlie now, not flirtin’ with ninnies like that Torbay girl.”

“I wasn’t flirting with her or anyone,” Kade protested.

“And that’s yer problem.”

Thankfully, before the conversation could become more ridiculous, Royal joined them.

“I see Angus has rescued you from another ardent fan,” his brother said. “I hope you’re properly grateful.”

“I am in awe of his ruthless methods.”

“Fah,” Angus said. “Maybe if ye’d been more ruthless, ye wouldna have gotten yerself stabbed by that dancer.”

“She was an opera singer, Grandda, not a dancer. And perhaps this is not the best place to be discussing such matters.”

“That bloody orchestra is making so much noise that we could discuss the king’s entire spy network and no one would hear a thing.” Angus scowled in the direction of the elegant twelve-piece orchestra at the end of the ballroom. “Sounds like a barnyard full of brayin’ donkeys in here. Nothin’ like yer fine playin’, although I did think ye could stand a bit more practice on that Holyrood strathspey. I fancy ye missed a few notes.”

“At least I didn’t sound like a donkey,” Kade dryly replied.

Royal laughed. “Your performance was excellent. I’m sure Melissa and Lady Kinloch were over the moon.”

“And thank the guid Lord this blasted waltz is comin’ to an end,” Angus said.

Kade glanced at the dance floor. Charlie had moved off to the opposite side of the room and was now chatting with her dance partner. Or, rather, he was chatting with her. She simply stood with her arms crossed over her chest, occasionally nodding. She seemed distracted and certainly not her usual bright self.

“I hope Melissa was pleased,” he said. “Yet Lady Kinloch barely said a word to me afterwards. Something seems off with the entire family, especially Miss Charlotte.”

Royal gave a slow nod. “I agree. Lord Kinloch has been looking positively grim all night. It makes no sense, since the festivities seem to be going well.”

“Aye, somethin’s amiss,” Angus said. “They’re all lookin’ as queer as Dick’s hatband.”

“I thought Melissa was going to burst into tears at the altar,” Kade replied. “And not from joy.”

Angus nodded. “I felt fair sorry for young Colin, even if he is a bit of a dunce.”

“Perhaps Ainsley will be able to get the truth out Lady Kinloch,” said Royal.

Kade transferred his attention to Charlie, who had left her dance partner and was making her way toward the hall. Despite the crowd, it was easy to track her, since she shone like a moonbeam in her silver-spangled gown with its snug bodice and wide skirts. A tartan sash in the colors of Clan Stewart fell from one shoulder to the opposite hip, nicely emphasizing her lovely shape. For such a slender lass, she had more than her share of delightful curves.

“Or I could just ask Charlie,” he mused, half to himself.

Royal’s eyebrows went up. “‘Charlie,’ is it? On quite good terms with her, are you?”

Kade looked at his brother and grandfather, who both regarded him with the same knowing expression. “There’s nothing between us but a mild friendship, I assure you.”

“There could be more if ye paid the lass a little attention,” Angus retorted. “Ye spend all day locked up in that stupid music room when the fairest maid in the Highlands is ready to tumble into yer arms.”

“Unbelievable,” Kade said. “Aren’t you the one who just told me that I needed more practice?”

His grandfather poked him in the chest. “Yer nae gettin’ any younger, laddie boy. It’s time ye found a wife and settled down.”

“I have no intention of settling down, nor does my career lend itself to that sort of life.”

Angus suddenly switched tactics by lifting a trembling hand to his brow. “Och, I’m not long for this world, Kade. Can ye blame me for wantin’ to see my favorite grandson married before I shuffle off this immortal coil?”

“It’s mortal coil, Grandda,” Royal said. “And I thought I was your favorite grandson.”

Kade snorted. “Each of us is his favorite grandson when he’s trying to wheedle us around to something.”

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About the Author

Vanessa Kelly is the award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of The Improper Princesses series, the Clan Kendrick, The Renegade Royals and The Stanton Family series, in addition to other historical romances. Named by Booklist as one of the “Stars of Historical Romance,” her books have been translated into nine languages and published internationally. In graduate school, Vanessa specialized in the study of eighteenth-century British fiction and is known for developing vibrant Regency settings, appealing characters, and witty story lines that captivate readers. She lives with her husband in Ontario, Canada. Visit her at VanessaKellyAuthor.com or join the Clan Kendrick Facebook Group at Facebook.com/groups/ClanKendrick.

Spotlight: The Highlander's Holiday Wife by Vanessa Kelly

Meet the most level-headed of the Clan Kendrick brothers and the independent woman who steals his heart in the fifth installment of USA Today bestselling author Vanessa Kelly’s intoxicating series set in Regency Scotland...

Filled with saucy wit, surprising twists, and unforgettable lovers, the latest novel in USA Today bestselling author Vanessa Kelly’s captivating historical romance series puts the most level-headed Kendrick at the center of a passionate and perilous adventure . . .

It’s Christmastime in Edinburgh, but Lady Samantha Penwith’s secret mission takes no holiday: the Highlands-born lass vows to find the assailants who murdered her beloved husband, founder of a charitable school for orphaned boys. On her latest undercover excursion, she closes in on a pair of armed attackers and interrupts another assault, then disappears into the darkness, leaving the lone victim mystified—and lucky to be alive . . .

Braden Kendrick may be the sensible brother, yet the dedicated doctor routinely ignores the dangers of his late-night calls to the city’s slums. But when a fleet-footed rescuer saves his life, he’s determined to uncover the stranger’s identity. And once he does, he’ll find himself facing his own past loss for the first time—and more than willing to risk his heart again, just in time to make the Clan Kendrick’s Christmas celebrations more festive than ever . . .

Excerpt

Braden Kendrick, an Edinburgh physician, is returning home late at night after attending a patient in the city’s slums. When two villains intending revenge attack him, an unlikely pair comes to Braden’s rescue.

“No one cares what ye think,” bellowed Parson, brandishing his club. “I’m gonna shut that gob of yours once and for all.”

He moved in for the kill. Braden curled up his fists, and—

Boom.

Plaster exploded from the wall behind Parson, showering chips and dust down on his head. He staggered sideways, crashing into his friend.

Mangled Nose howled. “Dougal, that’s my bad arm!”

“Who gives a shite about that? Who the hell is shootin’ at us?”

Braden peered toward the end of the alley. “I believe they did.”

Two figures garbed in black advanced silently toward them. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man swathed in a greatcoat. He was carrying a pistol, so had obviously fired the shot. It had been an excellent one, too, stopping Parson dead in his tracks by barely missing him.

But the other figure? Braden shook his head, as if to clear his vision. That person was slender and not very tall.

“Dougal, that be a girl,” Mangled Nose said.

No, a young woman, Braden guessed.

Dressed in a black riding habit, her hair tucked under a brimmed cap, she carried a walking stick and matched her companion’s steps with easy, confident strides. The mystery man and woman both wore dark scarves wrapped around their lower faces, effectively disguising their features.

“What the hell?” Parson growled, facing the pair.

Braden snapped out of his astonishment. “Tough luck, old man. Good Samaritans have come to my rescue.”

Parson threw him an ugly sneer. “Some doxy and a bloke who just shot his bolt? I’m ready to piss myself with fear.”

He began to stalk toward the pair. As the silent man reached into his pocket, the woman darted forward, whipping up her walking stick.

Except the stick was actually a long, lethal-looking blade. When she deftly slashed it across Parson’s cheek, he roared with pain and reared back, clapping a hand to his face.

“Oy,” yelled Mangled Nose, charging forward, machete held high.

Another shot boomed out, fired from a second pistol the man in black had pulled from his coat. Shards flew up from the cobblestones, directly in front of Mangled Nose. With a shocked cry, he turned on his heel and staggered back up the alley. Quickly, he disappeared into the night.

Parson was made of sterner stuff. He held his ground, holding his bloody cheek and glaring at the woman, who slid over to stand beside Braden. Her companion joined them, a silent, threatening guardian.

“I should kill the whole lot of ye,” Parson snarled.

Braden cocked his head. “I just heard the night watchman blow his whistle. He probably heard the shots and is calling for a constable. You’d be wise to follow your friend, Parson.”

A string of truly vile oaths ensued as the bastard shot a final glare at Braden. Then the man took to his heels, following his partner in crime.

For a moment, Braden and the others stood frozen in a silent tableau, listening to Parson’s footsteps fade away. Then Braden reached to doff his hat to his rescuers before realizing he’d lost the bloody thing in the bloody alley.

He smiled instead. “Thank you. I’m hoping you didn’t save me just so you could rob me.”

The big man simply shook his head, while the woman huffed an impatient breath from behind her black silk scarf.

“Then you have my sincere gratitude for your excellent timing,” Braden said. “I doubt my skull would have survived the encounter with Parson’s club.”

The man shook his head again before gesturing toward the lights of Cowgate. He and the woman then strode off in that direction, leaving Braden to both mentally and physically catch up.

“Can I know your names, so I can properly thank you?” he asked, coming up behind them.

The woman didn’t even glance back.

Braden almost laughed in disbelief. This was turning into the most bizarre night of his life. And given his family’s history, that was a very high hill to climb.

As he followed close behind them, a flicker of movement caught his attention. The woman’s gloved hand moved in gestures that looked practiced and precise. Braden’s amazement grew as her companion responded with a few, sharp motions of his right hand.

They were communicating with some sort of sign language.

“So, I take it you are not going to talk to me,” he commented.

The pair continued to ignore him as they gained the entrance of the alley. The woman reached out and grabbed something. She slid her blade into the slender wooden sheath that had leaned against a wall. Instantly, her lethal weapon was transformed into a genteel walking stick.

Braden felt as if he’d fallen into a dream or some sort of upside down fairy tale, one where the mysterious princess did the rescuing.

They led him out into Cowgate, and Braden had to blink against the flare of gas lanterns lining the street.

His silent escorts stopped and turned, calmly perusing him from behind their extremely effective disguises.

Now that he could finally get a good look at her, Braden saw that the lass had a trim, neat figure, dressed in a close-fitting wool jacket over a matching skirt. Her walking stick appeared to be of polished ebony with a carved brass handle. As for the man, who towered over her by a good foot, Braden had the impression that he might be a servant. He stood a few inches behind the woman, patiently waiting, as if taking his cues from her.

Fascinating.

If not a fairy tale, then Braden felt he might have stumbled into a corking good adventure. Unlike his brothers, he never fell into corking good adventures.

“If you won’t tell me your name,” he said, “then allow me to—”

A shrill whistle cut him off. They all glanced up Cowgate to see a sturdy watchman, lantern and long staff in hand, trundling toward them in the distance.

The woman glanced at her companion. He twirled a finger by his head and then pointed back to the alley. She nodded, and they turned in that direction.

Braden made a grab for her. “Wait, you can’t go back in there.”

As she gracefully eluded him, the man stepped in front of Braden, his stance all but yelling, back off.

He quickly put up his hands. “I just want you to be safe.”

The woman huffed out a ghost of a chuckle. Then she tapped the brim of her cap, saluting him before disappearing into the night, with the tall man at her heels.

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