When a Scot Ties the Knot (Castles Ever After, #3)

by Tessa Dare

Their joy is complete, and I am pushed further and further to the margins of it.

and you are not even a real person. And I am a bug.

She was curious. She was a romantic. And above all, she was lonely. Hunger, after all, was a more potent seasoning than salt.

He was lying in bed, a loose shirt hanging open at the neck to reveal a wedge of his chest. His brow was lightly furrowed in concentration, and those spectacles were perched on the strong bridge of his nose. One muscled arm was flexed and propped behind his head. And in the other hand, he held . . . Devil take him. Heaven help her. A book.

“It felt as if I’d tugged on a loose thread of God’s tartan, and a world away, someone tugged back.

“I’d have to be dead in my grave before I stopped fighting for you, Madeline. Even then, I’d move six feet of earth to find a way.”