The Sinful Scot

By Maddison Michaels

Constance Campbell, the Duchess of Kilmaine, once believed that all she needed in life was a duke. But everything unraveled when she realized her perfect husband was a perfect monster. Now broken beyond repair, she hides her misery behind a perfect Society mask...even from her childhood friend, Alec.

Dr. Alec McGuiness reluctantly finds himself back in Scotland, and checking up on the only woman to ever get under his skin, Connie. After she spurned him many years ago, he knows his humble life as a doctor could never be enough for her. But when the Duke of Kilmaine is murdered in cold blood, with Connie sleeping right next to him in bed, Alec knows he must protect Connie at all costs from those who would frame her for the duke’s murder.

Now on the run, Connie feels a freedom she only ever dreamed about, and an unexpected attraction to the man who is keeping her safe. But even if they can win her freedom and clear her name, could she ever open her heart up to someone again?

Each book in the Saints & Scoundrels series is STANDALONE:
* The Devilish Duke
* The Elusive Earl
* The Sinful Scot

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jan 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781682814789

Maddison Michaels

Maddison Michaels writes sexy history with a dash of mystery. She is the bestselling author of over seven novels, including her debut novel THE DEVILISH DUKE which won the 2019 Australian RWA RUBY award for best historical romance! Maddison’s novels are her way of time traveling back to Victorian London to experience a cornucopia of intrigue, romance and debauchery all from the comfort of her living room! She lives in NSW, Australia, with her own handsome hero, her beautiful but cheeky daughter, and her fur babies. Each morning she begins her day with a cup of liquid gold…coffee, of course!

Book preview

To my husband, Darren.

You are my inspiration,

my strongest support,

and the love of my life.

To my daughter, Charlotte.

You are the greatest gift

I have ever been blessed with,

and I love you more than anything!

To my mum & sister.

Your support means the world to me,

and I love you both so much.

Content and Trigger Warning

The Sinful Scot features themes, imagery, and content that may be triggering for some readers. We’ve provided a list of content warnings below:

Discussion of domestic violence, physical abuse, rape, and death appear within the novel. Scenes depicting anxiety, panic attacks, and graphic violence/death also appear.

Chapter One

May 1857, Castle Kilmaine

The reflection staring back at Constance from the floor-to-ceiling mirror was perfect. So perfect that she felt like crying.

Her pale blond hair was perfectly coiffured in a classic twist. Her diamond necklace was perfectly placed to highlight the delicate hollow of her throat. Her sapphire-blue ball gown was perfectly molded to her curves, the color of it perfectly matching her eyes.

And though some might wonder at her choice of long sleeves, they perfectly hid the multitude of yellow and purple bruises marring her body.

After all, her husband did insist she maintain the appearance of a perfect duchess for the ball they were about to host. And one couldn’t be considered perfect with bruises on display.

God, she hated that word…perfect.

For a moment, Connie felt like slashing away at the sleeves of her gown. Tearing it from shoulder to waist. Showing everyone that her husband, Duncan Campbell, the Duke of Kilmaine, was in fact a perfect monster. A monster who enjoyed using his fists on her, instead of any words of endearment.

Her body clenched as the memories of the afternoon assailed her—of being curled up on the floor while Duncan’s boot slammed into her back and legs, over and over. The guttural sound of pleasure in each of his grunts as he kicked her, still sending a wave of sickness through her belly. And then when he’d grabbed her by her hair and yanked her to her feet, there was the cruel delight in his eyes that he never bothered to disguise.

No. He thrilled in showing her how much enjoyment he took in inflicting pain upon her. But, this time, he’d had the restraint to leave her face alone, for it was rather difficult to pretend everything was fine if one’s wife had a bruised cheek or a swollen eye.

Though for a second, she’d seen the contemplation in his gaze. Weighing up whether he could simply say she’d taken ill, as he’d done on previous occasions. But the sheer number of important society members attending, and the fact that Connie was nothing if not the perfect hostess, had obviously outweighed his desire to strike her again, at least anywhere visible. So he’d laid into her stomach and arms with his fists instead.

Just enough to hurt her but not enough to debilitate her. And then he’d dragged her to the bed.

Hot waves of tears began to burn like acid down her face. She swiped at them with her hands and squared back her shoulders. She couldn’t give in to any weakness. She feared what she might do if she did…

Walking over to the window, she peered through a gap in the curtains. Already a line of carriages was positioned along the drive, one after the other, waiting to deliver their lofty occupants to the castle’s entrance stairs so they could partake in another of the Duke of Kilmaine’s famous balls.

Duncan would be inside, playing the consummate host, with a gleaming smile on his handsome face as he effortlessly charmed all the guests. Fooling them, as he’d once fooled her. Caring little that he was holding the ball on the third anniversary of his first wife’s death.

Your grace?

Connie jumped a fraction, her head swiveling toward the bedroom door. Thankfully, it was her lady’s maid, whose kind eyes were lit with concern. An expression the girl frequently wore these days.

Yes, Sarah?

Mrs. Morgan asked me to tell you that the duke is asking after you. The girl cringed slightly. He’s wondering when you will be downstairs to assist in greeting the guests.

Yes. Duncan would be inwardly seething that she hadn’t made an appearance yet. And of course, he would be harassing the housekeeper to find out where she was. But there were only so many hours she could keep up the pretense. And with each event, it was getting harder and harder to do so.

Sometimes she longed to flee, to run far, far away. But she couldn’t. Without funds at her disposal, and her family living in London, she was alone.

Not that her mother would help, anyway. No, she’d made that perfectly clear on the last occasion Connie had seen her, when she’d finally confessed what Duncan had been doing. She still felt a pang of despair when she recalled the fury in her mother’s eyes when Connie had broached the subject of leaving Duncan. Her mother had made it very clear that it was Connie’s fault for vexing the duke in the first place, and if she dared create a scandal by leaving him, she would never be welcome home.

Not that it really mattered. If Connie did try to flee again, Duncan probably would kill her this time.

Initially, when she’d fled, nearly two years ago after he first beat her, he’d caught her and punished her to the point of near death. It had taken her months to recover from her supposed fall down the stairs.

But at least, after that, Duncan had been more careful to not get so carried away. Not because he was worried about the police. No, as his wife, she was his chattel, to do with as he pleased. The reason Duncan took a little bit more care now was that he couldn’t risk losing the monthly dowry her inheritance gave him if she died.

A small comfort, that.

Not that she particularly minded the thought of death. Sometimes she even craved it, especially when he’d pick up her bruised and battered body, then carry her to the bed. The hot stench of his breath as he lay on top of her and pushed himself inside her, thrusting in and out, while she was helpless to do anything but close her eyes and pretend she was anywhere else.

Yes. On those occasions, she often welcomed death. Then there would be no more pain. No more hurt. No more fear.

Are you all right, your grace? Sarah asked, venturing into the room and walking over to her.

Connie closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus on breathing in and out. In and out. Just one breath at a time. I shall be fine, Sarah. She slowly walked back over to the mirror and checked her appearance once again.

As her mother had harshly reminded her on the one and only time the woman had visited her in Scotland, it was Connie’s duty to make the best of things, as much as she might long for the sweet bliss of nothingness.

Perhaps that’s what Duncan’s first wife had felt? Why she’d chosen to leap from the castle’s rooftop instead of enduring more of his punishments. But in doing so, the woman had left her little daughter, Amelie, alone with this monster.

Something Connie refused to do.

No six-year-old deserved to be under the same roof as such a man, subjected to his temper and fits of rage, even if he was her father. And since Connie’s arrival at Castle Kilmaine, she’d grown to love the girl. She would do anything to protect her from Duncan’s fists.

Even if that meant ensuring his anger was redirected upon herself instead. At least she was strong enough to withstand the physical beatings. She had to be. How else would she survive and protect Amelie?

Her reflection seemed to mock her. There was nothing strong about the image staring back. Her eyes looked haunted and, combined with the pale porcelain of her skin and almost ethereal looks and delicate figure, she projected an air of fragility.

An image she’d once carefully cultivated, earning her the nickname the divine angel when she’d had her coming out. An image that used to disguise the strong and determined young woman she’d once been. But it was an image she feared was becoming all too real.

An image she now loathed—but Duncan adored.

Please tell Mrs. Morgan to ensure the duke is informed I shall be down shortly.

Sarah curtsied. Yes, your grace.

The girl turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Your grace. How Connie had always longed to be called that.

And she’d pursued her goal relentlessly, refusing to accept anything less than a duke, believing that her life would be perfect when she became a duchess.

And in a way, it was perfect. A real dream come true—but never the way she’d intended. And the joke was on her, for wanting a duke above anyone else.

She glanced at her reflection and suddenly started laughing. The sound echoing across her bedchamber sounded manic and hysterical, even to her own ears. And then she collapsed onto the floor, buried among her petticoats and crinoline, sobbing as she’d never allowed herself to do before.

Sobbing until there were no tears left.

Chapter Two

The sounds of the orchestra striking up a Scottish reel should have brought a smile to any self-respecting Scotsman’s face, but all it did for Alec McGuiness was give him a headache.

The Duke of Kilmaine’s ball had only just commenced, which meant he was supposed to endure at least another four hours of dancing, music, and gossiping members of the Scottish nobility. Good Lord, he’d go mad if he had to deal with this lot of fools for that long.

As soon as he found the Duchess of Kilmaine—he still had to remind himself to call her that, having known her as Lady Connie for so long—he’d leave.

But the lady herself had yet to appear, though he was sure it wouldn’t be long before she did. After all, Connie had always loved to make a grand entrance, and he didn’t imagine she’d changed much in the two years since she’d married her duke. In fact, she’d probably become more intolerable, now that she was a duchess.

A shame, really, as he could still remember the sweet young lady she had been, before she’d made her society debut, and changed.

Honestly, if Sophie hadn’t asked him to check up on her best friend, Alec would have happily declined the invitation to attend. But at least doing so gave him a respite from his own family, while allowing him to carry out Sophie’s request.

He never understood how Sophie and Connie had stayed such good friends over the years. The two women had become as different as night and day. Where Sophie was kind and cared more about others than herself, Alec’s more recent memories of Connie were of a woman self-obsessed with her looks and dogged in her determination to marry a duke.

Well, the lady had certainly achieved that goal.

Snagging herself a wealthy duke, at that, if the multitude of servants, the gas-lit chandeliers, and the opulence of the gold brocade furnishings positioned around the ballroom were any indication.

He took a sip of water from his champagne flute, earning him another dark frown from the servant who had delivered him the drink; after all, apparently every self-respecting Scotsman drank whiskey, not water. At least that’s what he’d been told daily since he’d arrived in the Highlands a fortnight ago. None of them could understand why he refused to drink alcohol, though they blamed his unusual behavior on the fact that even though he was Scottish, he was half English, too.

But the truth was, he wouldn’t risk anyone’s life by being unable to perform his duties. Not ever again.

Doctor McGuiness, a deep voice bellowed to his left.

Alec glanced over to see the Duke of Kilmaine’s brother, Lord Fergus, striding toward him. The man reminded him of an ox, bullish in both appearance and manners, but at least he was direct, unlike the man’s brother, to whom Alec had been introduced earlier. There had been something about the duke Alec had disliked almost instantly. A cruelness and calculation in his eyes, which the man had tried to mask with charm. Alec had seen the same expression many times before in men who enjoyed abusing their power, especially upon those weaker than themselves.

Lord Fergus, he acknowledged, taking the man’s proffered hand in his own and shaking it.

I’m pleased to finally meet the youngest son of the Earl of Caldwell, Fergus said, tightening his grasp markedly. Tell me, how is Clan McGuiness?

Fine, Alec replied, matching the man’s grip with his own stronger one. Fergus winced in reply, and Alec suppressed a smile. He’d never been able to understand what it was about him that inspired such displays. Certainly, his six-foot two-inch frame was often taller and broader than others, and he kept himself fit through boxing and fencing, but compared to his own brother, Iain, who had another three inches on him, Alec was the small one in his family.

Good to hear. Though the duke and I were disappointed your father couldn’t come, Fergus continued until Alec released his hand. But considering his rumored ill health, it was to be expected.

The only thing ill about my father is the headache he wakes with every morning after his previous evening’s whiskey consumption. Alec had temporarily put aside the animosity he held toward his brother after receiving a telegraph that his father was at death’s door. However, upon his arrival in Scotland, it had soon become apparent that, though his father was frailer than when Alec had last seen him ten years ago, he certainly wasn’t anywhere close to death. Far from it.

Clearly, the old man had used his health as a ruse in an attempt, Alec assumed, to try to have his two sons mend the rift between them. And though Iain and he had come to a temporary truce, if that’s what basically ignoring each other entailed, his father’s wish was a long way off.

Notwithstanding that Alec was the reasonable one in the family, he still had a healthy dash of the McGuiness stubbornness coursing through his veins, which meant he didn’t forget—or forgive—easily.

Ah, a whiskey headache. Something I am all too familiar with, Fergus replied. But I noticed you are not drinking? His eyes stared fixedly down at Alec’s glass of water, a slight cloud of confusion in their depths.

I’m afraid my profession requires I keep my wits about me at all times.

Lord Fergus pursed his lips. Oh, indeed… Though our physician still manages to enjoy a glass or two. Or more. But I suppose you didn’t really grow up in Scotland, with the Scottish ways, did you?

No, I did not. Alec had been seven when his mother had taken him back to England with her. He’d been furious, as only a child can, that she hadn’t left him with his father and brother in Scotland, in the only home he’d ever known. But he hadn’t understood the true reason why she’d fled. Why she’d had to.

Of course, he wasn’t going to discuss it with a man whose family had been at odds with his own, more often than not, for the better part of several centuries. Does the duchess intend on making an appearance tonight? Alec asked. If Connie wasn’t going to attend, then he wasn’t going to waste any more of his time with this lot.

The change in topic seemed to stop Lord Fergus short for a moment. Do you know my brother’s wife?

Aye. I do, Alec confirmed, once again glancing around at the guests but catching no sight of the lady in question. Which meant she wasn’t in the room, because as much as he hadn’t particularly liked the duke-chasing debutant she had become, she’d always stood out like a brilliant jewel, lighting up any room she was in.

She was meant to come down and host the event, of course. But, well… Lord Fergus began, but there was a slight hesitation in his words as he started to awkwardly fiddle with his cravat. Sometimes she falls ill…a migraine or the like, and cannot attend.

Alec raised a brow. He’d known Connie a long time, and he’d never known her to suffer from migraines or any debilitating illnesses for that matter.

He still remembered when he’d met her, all those years ago. He’d been a lofty fifteen and she a precocious child of ten, when she and Sophie had been playing together in the woods adjacent to his grandfather’s estate in Devonshire. The girls had stumbled upon a fox whose leg was caught in a trap some poachers had set. They’d both raced over to Alec’s residence and begged him to help free the creature. Of course, he had assisted them. And every summer after, until he went away to university, he’d helped them save the various animals they came across. They’d both seemed to revere him as a bit of a knight in shining armor back then.

But when he’d next met Lady Connie, after her coming out, she’d changed. A lot. The girl he’d once known had turned into a full-fledged debutant, who had decided he was clearly no longer suitable to be in her vicinity. After all, he may have been the youngest son of a Scottish earl, but the scandal that had accompanied his parents’ divorce had followed them to England, including the gossip about his parentage. Enough to ensure that, though he was tolerated by Society, he would never be truly accepted by them. And Connie had followed the crowd in that respect.

Which had unexpectedly hurt.

They’d had little interaction in the intervening years, though he’d often glimpsed her dazzling the young bucks at whatever ball they were both attending. But never once, in the years he’d known her, had she ever missed a social event on account of being ill. She’d always been too bloody determined and fixated on being a diamond of the first water to let sickness interfere with her social activities.

Perhaps I should go and check on her, then? As a doctor, I might be able to assist.

Something akin to panic flashed in the man’s eyes before he carefully looked away. I’m sure she will be fine. Perhaps she’s just taking her time getting dressed.

Alec could hear the lie in the man’s words, and he didn’t like it at all.

He’d never really worried about checking up on Connie before Sophie had asked, as Connie had always been one of the most self-confident and self-assured ladies of his acquaintance, even if she had liked to pretend to be a helpless damsel. But now, he wasn’t going to leave until he’d seen her and made certain she was fine.

Is your brother here tonight? Lord Fergus asked in an obvious attempt to change the topic.

No, Alec replied. Iain can’t stand your brother, actually. Usually he showed a bit more tact in his conversations, but there was something about Fergus and Duncan Campbell, the Duke of Kilmaine, that irritated him. And he had little patience for games.

Fergus nodded. Aye. Most of us share your brother’s sentiments. Under his stewardship, the estate is more often than not on the verge of bankruptcy, and if it wasn’t for the duchess’s monthly dowry, we wouldn’t be here tonight. But where are my manners? I shouldn’t be discussing such matters, and Duncan is my kin. And one must put up with kin, at least while that kin is the current duke.

An odd turn of conversation, Alec thought, though he said nothing.

Fergus sighed. "I imagine you find it just as difficult putting up with your brother as I do mine. We younger brothers have a hard lot in life, do we not? Relying on them or a father for our income. Bloody horrid. Though I suppose you have your…profession. He looked rather pained at the thought of work. Although I have also heard you volunteer your services to the poor? Darned dirty work, I imagine, looking after their health issues. And I doubt not very financially rewarding, especially in a place like London. Expensive city, that."

I manage to do all right, even with volunteering my services to those less fortunate, Alec replied with a slight twist of his lips. The man obviously had no idea of the small fortune Alec had amassed by going into business with the Duke of Huntington.

But even if he hadn’t made a cent from the venture, Alec would never have accepted any financial assistance from his brother or father. Not after the events of the past. And as much as his father had apologized, no words could take back what had happened. Although he probably should be thankful to his father. If the old man hadn’t forced his mother and him out of Scotland all those years ago, Alec probably never would have become a doctor and experienced the joy of saving lives.

Then Alec would have been a dependent younger son, just like Fergus, living off the largess of his family’s goodwill. What a horrid way to live. Alec couldn’t think of a more worthless existence. Probably why he hated going to these social events. The lavish waste and equal boredom permeating the room from all the lords and ladies present was both frustrating and foreign to him. He had little patience for it.

As he excused himself from Fergus and strode away, an awareness danced along his spine. An almost crackling energy that he’d felt in only one lady’s presence before.

Lady Connie.

Glancing up toward the stairs, sure enough, there she was. A vision in blue. Staring down at them all, like a queen surveying her subjects.

It seemed as if the entire room paused for a moment, all drawn to her, staring in rapt attention. Then with a slight tilt of her chin, she gathered the skirts of her gown and gracefully descended into their midst; an angel visiting the realm of mortals.

The woman certainly knew how to make an entrance.

She hadn’t changed at all. Even from a distance she was still as hauntingly beautiful as ever—though he’d forgotten just how so. Alec felt like swearing. The unaccountable attraction he’d felt after seeing her on the last occasion was still there, damn it! And it was stronger than before.

He’d hoped it had just been a one-time aberration, for he’d been baffled at how he could be physically attracted to a woman whose only concern had become focused on her appearance and snagging a titled husband. Although she hadn’t always been like that. He could still remember how kind and funny she’d been, before she’d changed seemingly overnight into a vain and shallow lady. And he’d never been attracted to those types of women before.

Except for her.

And his body was still reacting to her, even though she was now a married woman. God help him. Not that he’d ever act on his attraction. He’d never dishonor a woman or any marriage vows she’d taken. He wouldn’t be a party to breaking up a marriage as his own mother’s actions had.

Connie hadn’t seen him yet, as she slowly made her way across the room, welcoming all in her path with a gracious smile and words of greeting. He wondered if she’d be happy to see him there? Or perhaps she’d be perturbed—they had, after all, bickered quite heatedly on the last occasion they’d seen each other, a few years ago. All over a dance.

But now that she was a duchess, perhaps she wouldn’t even deign to speak with him.

His eyes continued to follow her as she charmed everyone in her path, effortlessly putting them at ease and captivating them at the same time. But that was what Connie did. She was born to be a duchess, really.

Though as she got closer, Alec saw a stiffness in her body that he hadn’t seen before. And the sparkle in her eyes, along with the easy laughter that had once bubbled from her lips, was suspiciously absent.

When her gaze skimmed across the room, for a very brief moment, Alec could swear he saw a flash of fear swim across her face. In fact, her entire body stiffened, and her fists clenched together—but it was just for an instant, and if he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he would have missed it.

He couldn’t ever remember seeing Connie fearful. She’d always been overly confident of her beauty and her position in society, much too self-assured to be afraid of anything.

Or of anyone.

He looked toward where she had been staring, and his eyes landed on her husband.

A slow, seething rage started to boil in his belly. He truly hoped he was mistaken in thinking she was frightened of her husband… Because if he wasn’t, and the duke had dared to hurt her, the semi-simmering centuries-old feud between Clan McGuiness and Clan Campbell would be reignited into a burning bonfire.

When she ducked into an alcove and out of sight, Alec didn’t hesitate to follow. There was only one way to know for sure.

Chapter Three

The swirling sea of ladies and gentlemen, gossiping and laughing as they milled about the ballroom, nearly had Connie turning tail and striding back to her bedchamber. But she couldn’t. The repercussions of doing so would be too great. Duncan would ensure that.

Instead, she’d paused at the top of the stairs and mustered all the inner strength she had left. Then she’d raised her chin and took ahold of the skirts of her dress with her gloved hand and slowly walked down the grand staircase, each step sending a small jolt of pain lancing through her body. But nonetheless, she ensured a serene smile graced her face the entire time.

Connie had become nothing if not a master at pretending.

Coming to the bottom of the steps, she began the almost automatic routine of greeting and charming the guests. A smile here, a laugh there, and a compliment thrown into the mix. Yes, she was an excellent hostess, able to make all welcome and relaxed.

For a mad moment, she wondered how relaxed they’d be if she actually spoke the truth of what went on in her private hell. They’d most likely think she was insane, for her husband was an expert at acting the attentive spouse in front of guests.

But as much as she felt like shouting the truth from the rooftops, she couldn’t let them suspect anything was amiss. A past lesson, in the way of some broken ribs and the threat of locking her in an insane asylum, had taught her that.

It was then she caught a glimpse of her husband through the crowd. He was standing across the room, charming several dowagers, who were hanging on his every word.

He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. With his tall frame and air of rakishness about him, he was never short of admirers. But then he glanced toward her, and she could see the almost imperceptible downturn of his lips, the displeasure in his gaze.

Her entire body went rigid, and she had to force the smile to stay firmly affixed to her face. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her brief reaction, and she continued to nod and smile to those around her, all the while aware of Duncan in the distance.

He was obviously angry she’d made her appearance after the ball had commenced, but if she’d done so any earlier, it would have been apparent she’d been crying, and he would have punished her far more for that transgression than for being late.

As it was, Connie’s eyes were slightly red, though with the whiskey and champagne floating around, most of the guests would be happily oblivious. And hopefully Duncan would drink himself into a stupor, too, and then he’d forget she’d ever been late, and for a blissful night, he’d also forget she existed.

She’d have to have a quick word with the housekeeper, Mrs. Morgan, and ensure that his glass was constantly being refilled. Mrs. Morgan was always more than happy to assist, sympathetic to her mistress’s plight, especially considering the woman’s own daughter had been subjected to a husband who also liked to dish out punishment with his fists.

Sometimes Connie wished a plague on all men. Well, perhaps not all. Her brother Richard was honorable and kind, and she missed him like crazy, having not seen him since her wedding day, as he was always in Europe working on his clandestine missions for the government—not that he knew she knew of his work, but she did.

Many times, she’d thought of writing and telling Richard the truth. He, at least, would protect her, as her mother wouldn’t. But she couldn’t reveal to him what really occurred behind the closed doors of Castle Kilmaine. If she did, her brother would literally kill Duncan with his bare hands, and she would not see Richard hung over the piece of vermin that was her husband.

She caught sight of Duncan again, who was now without a glass of drink and seemed to be slowly weaving his way closer to her. Her breathing began to quicken, as did her pulse. She needed to have the servants begin to ply him with alcohol, as only then would his fixation on her wane. Yes, she must rectify the situation immediately. And remove herself from his line of sight.

Connie excused herself from the guests around her before hurrying across the room and through the alcove into the hallway leading toward the kitchens. As she walked down the dimly lit hall, approaching the stairs to the servants’ domain, a strange, tingling awareness began to creep up her neck. She had the bizarre sensation of being watched.

Duchess, a deep voice drawled, the Scottish brogue nowhere near as harsh as what she’d become accustomed to, but a very comforting and a familiar whisper from her childhood.

Stopping, she slowly spun around.

There, striding toward her, was Alec McGuiness.

The breadth of his shoulders and his height almost took up the entire corridor. Or at least it felt that way. She’d forgotten how strong and commanding his presence had always been.

He seemed fiercer now, too. But she didn’t feel scared. She felt like running toward him and throwing herself into the safety of his arms. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot. Alec… she whispered. Is that really you?

The whites of his teeth flashed brightly as he grinned at her before stopping a mere foot away. Aye. It is.

She had to crane her neck up slightly to meet his deep chocolate brown eyes. She’d forgotten how tall he was. Though, most men were tall compared to her five-foot four-inch stature. But Alec’s athletic frame and height certainly were an intimidating combination, and his steady gaze and solidness gave him an aura of strength.

This was a man who could be depended upon.

Connie felt her pulse start to flutter.

He’d always made her feel vulnerable, in a way she’d never understood. Probably why she’d been so horrid to him in the past. She’d never appreciated feeling anything less than in control, and she’d never felt in control with Alec. He’d always seemed immune to her charms, and she’d been unable to dazzle him as she could with other men. It had annoyed her often. Because as a debutant, she’d wanted to dazzle him rather

Reviews for The Sinful Scot

[jorgeousjotts · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a solid little story. The heroine is given a pretty meaningful backstory, and personal hurdle to overcome, so I felt happy and proud of her when things improved. In comparison, I was a bit underwhelmed with the hero's backstory, especially when he allowed it to determine his present. But he is loyal and caring, and I think well suited for the heroine. (It's much more common for the hero to have some grand battle-hardened or traumatic backstory, and the heroine to just have some piddly little issue, lol, so this helps balance the scales perhaps). I'm not sure how possible it is to solve the puzzle just based on the clues we're given, so the mystery twist ending isn't extraordinary, but it gets a point for not being painfully obvious I suppose. Overall, I like both the leads and was entertained.

[tarenn_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Sinful Scot (Saints & Scoundrels Book 3) by MaddisonMichaels is an exciting, and mysterious Regency Romance. Can be read as a stand alone. Set in Scotland. Follow, Constance Campbell, the Duchess of Kilmaine and Dr. Alec McGuiness, on their journey to find peace, trust, understanding and maybe, a HEA.Well written with anawe-inspiring cast of characters. The storyline is unpredictable, intriguing, and heartbreaking at times, especially as the reader learns more of Constance's husband, he's a monster, to be sure.Filled with many emotions, as the reader keeps turning pages. Filled with murder, suspense, a strong hero, a fragile heroine, mystery, villains and panic attacks, anxiety, violence, and shocking and climactic conclusion.Readers beware... talk of rape, domestic violence, death, physical and mental abuse, may bother some readers, these are written with respect and caring. A must read, and a keeper! Highly recommend!!#NetGalley, #TheSinfulScot"I voluntarily received a complimentary copy, however,  these are my honest opinions. I was in no way required nor compensated to write a review."Rating: 5Heat rating: Mild Reviewer: AprilR

[eyes92c · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Highlander regency romance thriller!My sympathies certainly were with the abused duchess Constance Campbell, the Duchess of Kilmaine. Married to a vile Duke who used her as a punching bag, his arousel dependent upon inflicting pain.When Constance awakes to find herself covered blood next to her husband who's been stabbed to death, she wonders if she's been the perpetrator.So begins the journey for Connie to prove her innocence dogged by the law, her brother-in-law, and other mysterious forces. Her flight is engineered by her childhood friend Dr. Alec McGuiness.Alec, betrayed in love (and that's a whole 'nother story) is a doctor. His sister has asked him to see how her friend is faring as they've lost touch. He attends the Duke's Ball and is not happy by what he intuits, and what he glimpses.The path to proving Connie's innocence uncovers further dark dealings and evidence of depraved appetites having turned to murder. As death mysteriously follows Alec and Connie's escape, the novel becomes more of thriller than a romance.I must admit that given Connie's brutalizations by the Duke her relations with Alec seemed a bit sudden to my mind, but Michaels seems to have tried to mitigate that through Connie's determination and Alec's empathy.I was totally surprised by the ending. Galvanized by my enjoyment of The Sinful Scot, I find myself itching to read the rest of this series (that if this book is anything to judge the test of the series by). Michaels presents a rather different take in the Highlander / Regency romance genreAn Entangled Publishing ARC via NetGalley (I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own)

[barbararogers-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Series: Saints & Scoundrels #3Publication Date: 1/27/20Number of Pages: 400While there is no trigger warning in the book blurb, there is one at the beginning of the book. Of course, you wouldn’t see that until you’d already bought the book, so, I thought I’d go ahead and mention it here. If you are particularly sensitive/susceptible to reading about those kinds of things, you should be aware that domestic abuse – severe beatings and rape – are talked about in this book. I thought the author handled that subject matter well and got her point across without getting overly graphic. I thought it was all really well done.One would think that Constance and Alec were opposites and could never be a good match. Alec is a self-made man who works for a living even though he is the second son of an earl and his working is frowned upon. Alec works tirelessly to help, as a doctor, those who have no champions. Constance’s sole goal in life was to marry a title – specifically, a duke. Well – she sure managed to reach that goal. What is missing from that scenario is that, as children, they knew and liked each other very much. Then, Constance (Connie) was sweet and loving and greatly admired Alec. What happened? Well – there are parents – particularly mothers – who seem to be spawns of Satan.The opening chapter shows what Constance Campbell’s life has been like for the last three years – since she married Duncan Campbell, the Duke of Kilmaine and moved to Scotland to live in Castle Kilmaine. It also shows that she’s stronger than you’d think given the weak-willed way she bent to her mother’s desires rather than her own. She’d certainly have to have some strength to her to endure all she has for the last three years and not be a huddled, whimpering, mass of fears. So, while I didn’t admire the way she acquiesced to her mother’s desires, I did admire that she had managed to endure her brute of a husband and had managed to survive without going stark-raving mad. I liked her very much.Alec McGuiness is only attending the Duke of Kilmaine’s ball in order to speak with the Duchess of Kilmaine – and he’s only doing that because their mutual friend Sophie asked him to do so. When she finally appears on the stairs, he loses his breath because she is still so very beautiful. Then, when he speaks to her, his sharp physician's eye notices the telltale signs of the abuse to which she is subjected. How can he help her?When Constance (Connie) awakens the morning following the ball, she feels groggy and disoriented – at least until she sees the lifeless body of her husband sprawled across her bed. He’s been viciously stabbed and there is blood all over the place, including all over Connie. Did she finally snap and murder him? She’s not sure, but she knows her first order of business has to be to get her step-daughter, Amelie, away from the castle to protect her from her uncle Fergus.Everyone immediately assumes Connie snapped and killed the duke – including Fergus, the duke’s brother. Alec doesn’t believe a word of it and quickly helps Connie escape the castle where she’s been confined. Once they are away from there, everything breaks loose – everybody is chasing Connie and Alec and Connie and Alec are trying to find out who the real murderer is. The answer will surprise you – and perplex you.One thing that perplexed me was a ‘monthly dowry’. That is one I’ve never heard of, but maybe it was possible. I can’t imagine any circumstances under which a potential groom would agree to that – but – it just doesn’t seem feasible to me and every time I saw it mentioned it just jarred me right out of the story. ** Note -- I asked the author about this and she said it was possible. However, I also asked several other knowledgable British authors about it and they said this would not have been possible.I also have to add that I thought Connie’s falling for Alec and being able to relax around him and even allow him to touch her came a little too quickly. We all heal at different rates, but Connie's recovery seemed remarkable - to me. ** Note ** I asked the author about this and she said that in her experience, healing of this type could occur quickly.I enjoyed the read and I hope you will as well. The stories in this series are stand-alone, so you don’t have to have read the other books in the series in order to enjoy this one.I voluntarily read and reviewed an Advanced Reader Copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.