Bonnie Phelps, Author: First Kiss Friday – An Excerpt from “The Lost Treasure of Lorne” by Jude Knight

Today on First Kiss Friday, we welcome romance author, Jude Knight, and an excerpt from “The Lost Treasure of Lorne.” This is part of her “Lost in the Tale” collection of historical romance novellas and short stories.

The Lost Treasure of Lorne: For nearly 300 years, the Normingtons and the Lorimers have feuded, since a love affair ended in a curse that doomed dead Lorimers to haunt their home, the Castle of Lorne. But the time allotted to the curse is running out, and only by working together can the last of the Normingtons and the last of the Lornes find the Lost Treasure of Lorne before the 300 years draws to a close.

In the segment that follows, Michael Normington, Duke of Kendal, is kissing Caitlin Morag Lorimer, who has been his housekeeper (under the name of Caitlin Morgan) for nearly twenty years. It isn’t as much of a spoiler as you might think, though it is right at the end of the book.

First Kiss Excerpt

He hurried up the long curved stair, and she was there, looking down over the battlements, her hair escaping from the cap she wore to blow in the wind that always caressed the upper reaches of the castle, no matter how still the day was below.

He thought he had been quiet, but she spoke without looking around. “Will they make a match of it, do you think?”

“John and Morag?” Yes. There they were, just coming up the hill from the village, her arm through his, he curved as if to hear her better or to protect her, or both. “John wants to ride for the bishop and a special licence,” he replied. “He says he’ll have none else to wife, and he wants her child born within wedlock.”

“He’d make another man’s child his heir? Your heir?”

Michael shrugged. “If it is a boy. The ladies said a granddaughter, but John says it does not matter. Morag’s lover is three hundred years dead, and a Normington besides. I would rather speak of your heir, Lady Lorne? Will he be half Normington?”

Caitlin turned her head to face him, doubt and hope warring in her eyes.

“Are all the barriers gone, my lass?” He managed to sound calm, but he would beg if he had to.

“Or do you hate me for what my family has done to yours.”

Shock flared. “No!” She clasped his hands, squeezing as if force would convince him of her earnestness. “No.” More quietly this time. “Both families have paid an awful price for the Lorne obsession. But I do not blame you. How could I? I lo– I love John.” She turned away again, hiding her blush. Michael relinquished one hand but held on to the other.

“Only John?”

“I thought you would hate me. My grandfather condemned your wife, lied about your marriage, tried to kill your son.”

Michael gave her back her own words. “I do not blame you. How could I? I love you.”

“You are fond of me, I know. And grateful to me.”

“I love you,” Michael repeated. “Caitlin, I want you for my wife, my duchess, and if you will not have me, I shall remain single all my life. I love you.”

“You love Fiona,” Caitlin reminded him.

“I loved Fiona with all the passion of a young man’s heart, and when she died I thought I would never love again. But then a young girl grew up in my household. I fell in love with her courage, her loyalty, her intelligence, and her beauty. Bit by bit I discovered that a man grown can love more deeply than a stripling, and that one does not need to throw out the old love to make room for the new. My heart shaped itself to hold you, Caitlin. Don’t force it to live empty.”

She wouldn’t look at him, kept her head turned away. But she did not pull away her hand. Indeed, she pressed his before she spoke. “I wanted to hate you. For being a Normington. For taking Fiona from me. But I had nowhere else to take John, nowhere he would be safe. And from the moment I met you, I knew I could trust you to protect us. Oh Michael, I have loved you since I was a girl.”

She was in his arms then, her lips reaching for his, and he lost himself in the warmth and the taste of her. He had no idea how long it was until he withdrew his head enough to speak, dazed but determined. He could not forget that their last kiss, seven years ago, had taken them into bed together, but ended with her withdrawing beneath the protective shield of her housekeeper caps and aprons. “Is that a ‘yes’, Lady Lorne? Will you do me the honour of being my duchess? Shall I fetch two special licences from the bishop?”

Her answer glowed in her eyes, but she said it anyway. “Three questions, Your Grace, but a single answer. Yes.”

In the corner of his vision, Michael sensed a shimmer, and he and Caitlin turned in time to see the ghosts of Lady Lorne and Lady Normington, hovering above the battlements, smiling a blessing on them.

Their voices sounded distant, but without the interference that had made the castle ghosts impossible to understand.

“It is finished, my dear friend,” said one.

“Yes,” said the other. “Now we can go home.”

And with that, they were no more.

“The Lost Treasure of Lorne” is available through: