An English Bride in Scotland Quotes

“Annabel better not have headed back to England. He’d wring her bloody neck if she had. She was his. And why the hell would she go there anyway? Surely life with him was better than life with those two coldhearted English— “Nay.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“In sleep, Ross’s face was unguarded, his expression soft. It made him appear much younger. He also snored loud enough to wake the dead. It made her think it would be a good thing did she fall asleep first every night for the rest of their marriage. Annabel”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Straightening, he then stared down at her for a moment, his tight-lipped expression easing and twitching with amusement when she began to snore lightly. She was just so damned cute. Shaking”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Ye told me ye had no’ seen the man in the clearing yesterday.” “I did not,” Annabel assured him, swiveling to look at him with a bit of excitement as she was recalled to the day’s events. “But I saw his plaid and the man today was wearing the same color plaid. He was big too. And, he was the same man as the one who startled me in England on our journey here, so I am beginning to think it was the same man all three times.” “Ye’re sure it was the same man as in England?” he asked, not happy at the thought. “Aye. I only caught a glimpse that first time, but he is hard to mistake,” she assured him. “He is very large and has a pretty face.” That brought a scowl to Ross’s lips. He didn’t at all like her finding someone else attractive, which was silly, he supposed. It wasn’t like she was going to run off with her attacker. According to Giorsal, she’d stabbed him. Besides, he himself wouldn’t have been flattered to be called pretty. “Ye mean handsome, do ye no’?” he suggested. “Nay. You are handsome, husband. He is pretty,” she said in a tone of voice that suggested that should clear the matter up. It didn’t. “Is there a difference?” Ross asked cautiously. “Aye,” Annabel said as if that should be obvious. “Handsome is rugged and manly and . . . well . . . handsome,” she finished helplessly, and then added, “Pretty is big eyes, sculpted jaw and hair that flops across the eyes.” She paused briefly before continuing with some consideration, “He would make a lovely girl were he not so muscular across the shoulders and chest.” “Ah,” Ross said, unable to repress a grin. Whether she realized it or not, his wife was saying she thought he was a sexy beast, while the pretty boy was . . . pretty, but not in a way she found especially attractive. He liked that. His”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Husband,” she protested. “I can ride. I am not hurt.” “Yer gown is torn and bloodied and ye’ve added yet another bruise to yer pretty face. Do no’ tell me yer no’ hurt,” he said grimly, shifting her about before him until she was pressed snugly up against his groin. Satisfied with her position, he then gestured for the others to follow, and turned his horse toward the castle.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“I brought the best of the gowns I found yesterday, but they all need work. I never got to repairing them yesterday what with running between ye and the merchant,” she added apologetically. “No, of course you did not,” Annabel said with understanding as she pushed the door closed. “ ’Tis all right. Surely we can get one ready by noon?” “Aye,” Seonag agreed, sounding relieved that she wasn’t angry. A sigh from the bed made them both glance that way as Ross tossed the furs and linens aside to get up. “I suppose there is no reason fer me to stay abed then,” he said dryly, bending to pick up his shirt. He tugged it on and then walked to Annabel and gave her a slow, hungry kiss that had her releasing his plaid to reach for him. The moment she did, he broke the kiss and stepped back taking the plaid with him. “I’ll need this. Besides, I like ye better that way,” he said with a grin as Annabel gasped in surprise at being left naked.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Annabel stopped rubbing the center of her lower back and ducked her head to hide the blush his words had brought on. It made Ross want to kiss her. Reminded”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“His gaze was locked on the young woman approaching beside Lady Withram. Short, no more than five feet, with a pretty face, shiny, long, wavy midnight hair and more curves than his shield. He noted all that in an instant, his eyes traveling with appreciation over each asset before settling on her eyes. They were a color he’d never seen before in eyes, a combination of pale blue and green, almost teal with a darker rim circling the unusual irises. They were absolutely beautiful . . . and presently brimming with anxiety and fear. Before he’d even realized he was going to do it, Ross found himself moving around the table to approach the girl. Taking her hand in his, he placed it on his arm and peered solemnly down into her unusual eyes before announcing, “Well worth the wait.” He was pleased to see some of her fear dissipate. Just a little, but it was something. She blushed too, ducking her head as if unused to and embarrassed by such a compliment . . . and her fingers were trembling where they rested on his arm. She did not strike him as a light-skirt, nor was she sour faced or ugly, but she had the finest eyes he’d ever seen, and he wanted to see more of them, so Ross turned and escorted her to the table. He didn’t miss the audible sighs of relief from her parents at their backs. Nor did he miss Gilly’s muttered, “Bloody hell. He’s done fer now.” Judging”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“She’s yer lady wife’s sister, Kate,” Fingal announced abruptly, and then, just to be helpful, Annabel was sure, added, “Ye ken . . . the lass who kindly ran off to toss up her skirts with the stable master’s son so ye were able to marry our sweet Annabel in her place.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Surely God had not made man to suffer and be miserable? Surely, he would want his children happy, just as mortal parents wanted happiness for their own offspring?”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Thank God it is Thursday.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Ye ha’e to laugh at life’s trials. It makes them lighter to carry.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Me wife was attacked and punched in the head,” Ross explained. “And doubtless she has other bruises and wounds from the attack too. Take her above stairs and be sure there is nothing serious. Then see her changed. I’ll—” “There is no time for that now,” Annabel protested at once. “We must get these bluebells strewn about. Your sister and her husband—” “I’ll tend the flowers,” Ross interrupted. He took the sack from her and then urged her toward the stairs. “Let Seonag examine ye and help ye change . . . else I’ll do it.” When he paused on the last word and suddenly turned to look down at her, his eyes going smoky, Annabel felt her own eyes widen. She recognized that look and instinctively knew that his examining would be a lot more involved and take much longer than Seonag’s. She suspected it would include his getting naked too, and for a moment she was tempted, but then Seonag tsked with exasperation and took her arm to pull her away from Ross. “There’s time enough fer yer kind o’ examining later, after yer guests have left,” the maid said to Ross as she urged Annabel up the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder she added, “Now get on with ye and give those flowers to the maids to strew about. Ye don’t want yer wife embarrassed by yer home when yer sister enters.” Recalled”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“The dog kept tipping his head up to Annabel, and then to the path ahead, and then back to Annabel again. It was how he used to follow his father, Ross recalled, and suspected his wife had been adopted by the beast in his father’s place. He”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“With those thoughts marching around inside her head, Annabel found her appetite quickly waning. It did not help that the stew was cold, and the cheese hard from sitting in the open air so long. She’d barely touched her food before she was pushing it away and letting the fur slip to the floor so that she could draw the linen around herself in the roman style and stand. “I thought ye were hungry?” Ross said, stepping closer and scooping her up when she stepped from between the table and chair. “So did I,” Annabel admitted quietly, slipping her arms around his neck as he carried her back across the room. Her words made him stop at the foot of the bed and he eyed her with concern. “Is yer head aching again? Seonag said it was pounding something fierce when ye woke up the first time, but that she’d given ye something fer it.” “She did, and ’tis fine. I am just not hungry anymore,” Annabel said with a shrug. “But ye feel all right?” he persisted. “Aye. You may go quench your thirst without worrying about me,” she assured him. Ross grunted with satisfaction at this news and promptly set her to sit on the foot of the bed.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“I was attacked? I thought I just ran into a tree.” “Aye, ye did,” he acknowledged. “But when yer squawking woke me up, someone was chasing ye.” “Squawking?” she asked with affront. “I do not squawk, husband.” His mouth worked briefly and he turned away for another pseudo cough, but then nodded solemnly. “I meant scream. When yer screaming woke me up.” “Hmmm,”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Did my husband catch the man?” “Nay,” Seonag answered. “The laird didn’t give chase. He was more concerned with getting ye home to tend yer wound. He’s out there now with the men though, beating the bushes and searching for him.” “Oh,” Annabel murmured, oddly disappointed that he’d simply dumped her there in Seonag’s care and rushed off rather than stay to see her wake up and reassure himself that she was all right. She supposed it was silly, but after what they’d done in the woods she’d thought— “He wanted to stay,” Seonag added. “But he was driving me wild pacing about like a caged animal and hovering over me shoulder while I tried to clean yer wound, so I ordered him from the room. Told him did he no’ leave and go find the man responsible, I’d stop what I was doing and leave Cook to tend ye. Cook is no’ very good with wounds, so he left,” she added. “Oh,” Annabel murmured, feeling a little better about being abandoned. Although, she would have felt better still to hear that he’d left the room only to hover anxiously in the hall, haunting the door like a ghost in his worry. That, she supposed, was silly too, but she couldn’t help what she wished for. “Can”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“My lord, surely you do not expect me to . . . with men standing around me?” she asked as if he’d suggested she do it in the village square for all to see . . . and naked. “Well, they won’t be able to see anything,” he assured her with amusement. Damned if he’d let his men look on her cute little derriere as she knelt in the bushes. “They’ll be on the other side of the bushes, but there to stop anyone else approaching.” Annabel was shaking her head before he’d finished. “I cannot possibly—not while I know your men are all standing around listening to me . . . I just cannot,” she said helplessly. “It’s pissen, lass,” he said helpfully since she seemed unable to voice the word herself. “It’s a pissen yer needing. Ye can say the word. I’ll no think less o’ ye fer it.” Annabel opened her mouth, closed it, and then simply shook her head again. Ross sighed. If she couldn’t even say the damned word, there was no way she was going to do it with guards standing but feet away. He glanced around, considering what to do, then nodded. “Right. Then come here.” “Where are we—?” Her question died as he led her to a bush at the stream’s edge and paused. “Ye do it here,” he said releasing her arm and moving three or four feet away to turn his back to her. “And I’ll stand guard here. That way yer front and back are safe and we can both keep an eye on the sides.” Ross waited for either agreement or the rustle of her adjusting her clothes, but neither sounded. Resisting the urge to look back and see what she was doing, he asked, “Yer no’ doing it, are ye?” “Umm . . . nay, not yet,” she muttered, then paused, cleared her throat, and asked, “Do you think you could whistle, my lord?” “Whistle?” He did glance around then. She was standing where he’d left her, looking uncomfortable, but still upright, not down on her haunches with her skirt hiked up around her waist. Annabel grimaced apologetically. “It would help if you did.” Sighing, Ross shook his head, but turned away and began to whistle. He was wishing though, that she’d just hurry up and get it done. He still had some pissen of his own to do. So, he was more than a little relieved when she cleared her throat a moment later and murmured, “We can return to the clearing.” Ross”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“While he had already decided to leave first thing this morning, the man’s making it so obvious that he would like to see the backs of them was more than a bit insulting. To both of them, he thought grimly and wondered what kind of life his poor bride had endured as the daughter of two such uncaring individuals. He himself had been gifted with loving and caring parents who had never made him feel unwelcome or unimportant. It seemed obvious Annabel had not enjoyed the same. He would make that up to her. She would never feel unwelcome or uncared for again,”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“It was as if, once she was married, the woman had washed her hands of the girl. However, the welts on her back had been the final straw. Aye, they would leave for MacKay first thing tomorrow morning, Ross determined. He would take her home, where they could consummate their marriage in the bed where she would one day give birth to their children. Annabel’s life here was done. She was his now.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“He’d set her on her side facing him, and her mouth now hung open, a small string of drool slipping from it. For some reason the sight made warmth rattle through his chest and brought a smile to his lips. She was just so damned adorable to him. The thought made him smile wryly. He’d been all set to order his men to the horses and ride out of here rather than marry the lass who was the Withram’s second daughter, and then he’d spotted her and something about her had made him change his mind immediately. But he really couldn’t say what that something was. She was bonnie enough, Ross supposed, but he’d seen bonnier. And she hadn’t said more than a few words to him all night, so it wasn’t that she had a shiny wit and charm, at least not that he yet knew of. Perhaps it had been the fear and anxiety in her eyes. Her expression had been calm and even pleasant, but her eyes had been awash with uncertainty and terror. He’d immediately wanted to reassure, soothe and protect her. Following”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“He then turned back to his bride and paused as he noted the welts on her back. Ross recognized them as whip marks at once and it made him stiffen with rage at the thought of anyone touching her so in violence. He hadn’t cared much for her parents; their demeanor was cool and uncaring toward their daughter. He hadn’t seen a single sign of affection for her, but this pushed his feelings for them from indifferent to active dislike. Mouth”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“Wife?” Annabel glanced around the room before turning back to him and saying with surprise, “Oh, you mean me.” For some reason that seemed funny to her and she found herself giggling again. “How do you feel?” he asked, eyeing her closely. “Like I have to pee,” she answered, and then slapped a hand over her mouth with dismay, only to tear it away and mutter, “Damn, I said it,” which was followed quickly by an alarmed, “Oh damn, I said damn.” Swearing was definitely not allowed at the abbey. For some reason her words seemed to amuse the man. She could tell by the way his lovely dark eyes crinkled and his terribly stern mouth turned up. He had lovely eyes. “Thank ye,” Ross rumbled. “So do you.” “So do I, what?” she asked with confusion. “Have lovely eyes,” he explained. “I didn’t tell you, you have lovely eyes. Did I?” she asked with a frown. Annabel was sure she’d only thought that. Still smiling, he shook his head slightly, but apparently decided not to trouble himself answering, because he didn’t and simply bent to tug the furs and linens away from her, saying, “Come, I’ll walk ye to the garderobe.” “Oh no,” she said at once, scrambling to get out of bed. “That is not necessary, my lord. I know where it is. I used to live—Oh,” Annabel gasped with surprise when she stood up and the room swung wildly. Ross immediately reached out to steady her, and she leaned against his chest and closed her eyes briefly in the hopes that the room would settle when she opened them again. After a moment, she cautiously eased them open and tipped her head back to peer up at the man holding her. He had a very nice face. She hadn’t seen enough men to decide whether he was handsome compared to others, and so far his face seemed a touch stern most of the time.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“The unfairness of it all was rather depressing. Not only did men get to enjoy sex, which from all accounts was painful for the woman, but they didn’t have to suffer monthly bleeding, or push huge babies out into the world from their own bodies, which was not only painful but often killed the woman. Truly, it did seem to her that women often got the short end of the stick in life. The”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“He opened his mouth to ask what she was about, but the question never made it past his lips. She was naked from the top of her head to the tips of her toes . . . and absolutely beautiful. His bride was a fine figure of a woman, all soft and round. Just the way he liked his women, and his mouth watered at the sight. But it was a very brief view he got before she tugged a long shirt on and let it drop to curtain all that loveliness. “What the bloody hell is that?” As the first real words he’d said since marrying the woman, Ross supposed they left much to be desired. But he was just so shocked at the sight of the ugly shirt covering all that beauty, he couldn’t help himself.”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“There was nothing soft or serene about his appearance, nothing small and dainty. Ross was huge and rough-looking, a walking wall of muscle-rippling, spicy-smelling, rumbling-voiced man. He”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“It seemed she would marry, be a wife to this unknown Scot, the mother of his children, and lady of his people . . . Lord save them all. R”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland

“An English lass,” Marach muttered, joining the conversation with a sorrowful shake of the head. Ross chuckled, but shrugged mildly as they approached the gates of Waverly. “A lass is a lass.” “And an English lass is an English lass,” Gilly said grimly as they rode over the bridge across the moat. “I’ve yet to meet an English lass who did no’ look down her nose at us ‘heathen Scots.’ They’re all spoiled rotten.” “Hmm,” Ross said with a sigh. “Well, we shall ha’e to hope this one is no’ spoiled.” “Hope away, me friend,” Gilly said with a grimace. “But prepare yerself for a fishwife o’ a bride who’ll make yer life a nightmare.” Ross”
― Lynsay Sands, An English Bride In Scotland