Janice Preston - His Convenient Highland Wedding

Bought by her husband...

Bound by secrets of their past!

The start of The Lochmore Legacy—a Scottish castle through the ages! Earl’s daughter Flora McCrieff brought shame on her family once, now she discovers she must wed impossibly rich but lowborn Lachlan McNeill. He’s undeniably handsome, but a man of few words. Despite the attraction that burns between them, can she reach beyond his impeccable clothing to find the emotions he’s locked away for so long?

JANICE PRESTONgrew up in Wembley, North London, with a love of reading, writing stories and animals. In the past she has worked as a farmer, a police call-handler and a university administrator. She now lives in the West Midlands, with her husband and two cats, and has a part-time job as a weight management counsellor—vainly trying to control her own weight despite her love of chocolate!

Also by Janice Preston

The Beauchamp Betrothals miniseries

Cinderella and the Duke

Scandal and Miss Markham

Lady Cecily and the Mysterious Mr Gray

The Beauchamp Heirs miniseries

Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake

The Lochmore Legacy collection

His Convenient Highland Wedding

And look out for the next books:

Unlaced by the Highland Duke

by Lara Temple

A Runaway Bride for the Highlander

by Elisabeth Hobbes

Secrets of a Highland Warrior

by Nicole Locke

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

His Convenient Highland Wedding

Janice Preston

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08888-6

HIS CONVENIENT HIGHLAND WEDDING

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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To Lara Temple, Elisabeth Hobbes and Nicole Locke.

It’s been great fun working with you all

on The Lochmore Legacy, ladies.

Thank you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

‘But... Father... I can help... I can help you to think of ideas—’

‘Out!’

Flora McCrieff flinched at her father’s roar, but he did not raise his hand to her. This time. Her younger brother, Donald, pulled a mocking face from behind their father’s back. Father would listen to Donald’s ideas, no matter how stupid they were, simply because he was a boy and would be clan chief one day. But that didn’t make him wise...his ideas were always foolish, like the time he persuaded their two younger sisters, Aileen and Mairi, to sneak away with him to explore a wreck that had washed up in a nearby cove. He’d not even thought about the tide turning and cutting them off and if Flora hadn’t followed her instinct that something was wrong, and gone in search of them, they would all have been drowned.

Not that her father had ever acknowledged it.

She left her father’s business room without another word, shutting the heavy iron-studded door behind her. It was no use trying to change his mind once it was made up. The air in the room had swirled thick with her father’s anger and she’d sensed he was battling to rein in his temper. Better to leave before he lost control. Financial worries, made worse by the slow but steady loss of tenants—leaving the Highlands to try their luck in America and Canada—had made his temper touchier than ever.

A sense of injustice pounded in Flora’s chest. Her head was full of ideas and she knew , if only he would listen, that she could help Father find new ways to raise money for the clan and to repair Castle McCrieff, their home and the ancestral home of the McCrieffs. But no one ever paid her any attention, unless it was to order her about. It had always been that way. Lasses should be seen and not heard—one of Father’s favourite phrases and Mother never contradicted him. Not about that. Not about anything. Well, Flora knew she had more sense in her little finger than Donald had in his entire brain. At eleven, he was only a year younger than her, but when it came to common sense he was more like five years her junior.

Flora stood irresolute in the hall, which covered much of the ground floor of the keep and where a fire was kept blazing day and night, summer and winter, in the huge fireplace with its carved-stone mantel. The castle remained much the same as when it had been built, centuries ago, with a few additions. She shivered. It might be fanciful, but sometimes she imagined she could feel those people of long ago—their joys and their heartaches; their passions; their rage and their laughter—their emotions absorbed by the massive stone walls that were still hung in places with faded tapestries in the old style.