It’s Getting Scot in Here
by Suzanne Enoch
Wild Wicked Highlanders #1
St. Martin’s Paperbacks | February 26, 2018
Sitting here in the frozen North known as January in Michigan, let me tell you, I finished my second read of Suzanne Enoch’s It’s Getting Scot in Here yesterday and I’m still fanning myself.
This seems like it will be the first book in a new series from this author, as she’s one of my favorites, I couldn’t be happier. The prologue hooked me. Three pages into it I sent Birdie a text message that she must – must – read this.
At the heart, it’s a story of a marriage between two stubborn people who quite obviously loved each other, but could never seem to compromise, leading to a split family, and a bargain struck that (of course) leads to confusion, confrontation, mahem, a stuffed deer in a dress, a story about milking cats and a whole host of complex characters.
When the Earl and Countess of Aldriss separated, he kept the three boys with him in his beloved Highlands, while she took their infant daughter to London. This is the story of how Lady Francesca, Countess of Aldriss manages to lure her three oh-so-Scottish sons to London after a seventeen year separation, and her conditions for continuing to financially support the Scottish estate they call home.
Amelia-Rose Baxter, a close friend of their sister, has her own burdens in highly ambitious parents. Their daughter will have a title, if she can just shut her mouth long enough to stop insulting them. Determined to please her parents, she creates a meek, delicate persona to catch that which her parents demand.
Until, that is, it really does get Scot in her very little world.
My favorite stories are ones where you get to know the characters much as you would in real life: in layers, in bits and pieces. There is no omnipotent narrator to tell you the dude you’re having coffee with thinks you’re too opinionated but your laugh is like heaven. While, of course, we are let in on the characters inner thoughts and feelings, they develop and deepen slowly, almost imperceptibly. That is how you find yourself teary eyed and on the edge of your seat reading a romance novel.
I cannot wait for the next in the series, and I truly hope there is more to learn about the Earl and Countess of Aldriss.
Can I give six stars? Suzanne Enoch deserves six stars for this. Truly a beautiful story.
Once upon a time—in May 1785, to be exact—Angus MacTaggert, Earl Aldriss, traveled from the middle of the Scottish Highlands to London in search of a wealthy bride to save his well-loved but crumbling estate. Aldriss Park had been in the MacTaggert family since the time of Henry VIII, when Domhnall MacTaggert, despite being Catholic and married, declared publicly that Henry should be able to wed as many lasses as he wanted until one of them got him a son. Aldriss Park was the newly minted earl’s reward for his support and understanding.
For the next two hundred years Aldriss thrived, until the weight of poor harvests, the ever-intruding, rulemaking Sassenach, and the MacTaggerts’ own fondness for drinking, gambling, and wild investments (including an early bicycle design wherein the driver sat between two wheels; sadly, it had no braking mechanism and after a series of accidents nearly began a war within the MacTaggerts’ clan Ross) began to sink it into disrepair.
When Angus inherited the title in 1783, he realized the old castle needed far more than a fresh coat of paint to keep it from both physical collapse and bankruptcy. And so he determined to go down among the enemy Sassenach and win himself a wealthy bride. The English had made enough trouble for him and his over the centuries, so they could bloody well help him set things right.
On his second day in London, he met the stunning Francesca Oswell, the only offspring of James and Mary Oswell, Viscount and Viscountess of Hornford—who had more money than Midas and a bevy of very fine solicitors—at a masked ball where he dressed as a bull, and she as a swan. Despite the misgivings of nearly everyone in Mayfair, Angus and Francesca immediately fell madly in love, and married with a special license ten days later.
A week after that, Angus took Francesca back to Aldriss Park and the Highlands, where she found very little civilization, a great many sheep, and a husband who preferred brawling to dancing, and he discovered that her father’s solicitors had arranged to keep the Oswell family money in Francesca’s hands. This made for some very spectacular arguments, because there is nothing more combustible in the world than an impoverished Highlands laird in disagreement with an independently wealthy English lady about his own ancestral lands.
Over the next thirteen turbulent years the estate prospered, and Francesca gave Angus three sons—Coll, Aden, and Niall—and with each one became more concerned that this was not a life for any civilized person. She wanted to bring the boys back to London for proper educations and to live proper lives, but Angus refused, stating that what had been good enough for him would be good enough for his lads.
When a fourth child, a daughter, arrived in 1798, Francesca reached her breaking point. No daughter of hers was going to be raised with an uncivilized accent in a rough country where she would be ridiculed by proper Society and unfit to marry anyone but a shepherd or a peat cutter. Angus refused to let his lads go, but he allowed Francesca to take young Eloise and return to London—on the condition that she continue providing for the maintenance of the estate.
Francesca reluctantly agreed, but given that she controlled the purse strings, she had her own conditions to try to keep some influence with her wild sons: All three boys must marry before their sister, they must wed proper Englishwomen, and at least one of them must marry someone of her choosing.
She knew Angus would raise them as he pleased, but they were her children, too, by God, and she meant to see to it that they had some semblance of propriety in their lives—she was a viscount’s daughter, after all, and certain things would be expected of her offspring. She refused to allow them to be viewed as unsophisticated wild men by her London neighbors, and she remained determined to have a presence in their lives.
To enforce her will, she convinced (or rather, coerced) Angus to put his signature to the agreement, which contained this provision: If young Eloise MacTaggert did marry before any of the boys, Francesca would cut off all funds to the estate. If they were to insist on defiance, they would have a heavy price to pay for it—one they and their tenants could not afford.
Angus had no choice but to agree, and considering that Coll, the oldest, was only twelve at the time of Francesca’s departure and Eloise was but a wee bairn, he was willing to wager that he would have time to renegotiate. Angus and Francesca remained married, but neither would bend enough to visit the other ever again. As far as the lads were concerned, their mother had abandoned them.
In the spring of 1816 Angus received a letter from Francesca announcing their daughter’s engagement, and he promptly collapsed. He’d hoped his sons would have found themselves Scottish lasses by now and shown their mother she couldn’t control their lives after all, but the lads were defiant and wouldn’t be rushed. Now it appeared to be too late.
He summoned his sons to his apparent deathbed and confessed all—Francesca funding the estate, the pernicious agreement, and their mother’s grasping claws, which he explained was a symptom of all Englishwomen and their weak, clinging, cloying ways. For the sake of the property and their tenants the young men must go to London. At once. No sense even taking time to put him in the ground, much less mourn him, because Francesca wouldn’t excuse the loss of time, and they needed to marry before their sister.
The lads—grown men, now—were not at all happy suddenly to learn about the responsibilities and rules foisted upon them by a woman they barely remembered. Being wily, freehearted, and exceptionally handsome men accustomed to doing things their way and certainly not bowing to the demands of a demented Englishwoman, they determined to go down to London not to comply, but to outwit their mother and upend any plans she had for them. And thus, dear reader, begins our story.
A native and current resident of Southern California, Suzanne
Enoch loves movies almost as much as she loves books, with a special
place in her heart for anything Star Wars. She has written more than forty
Regency novels and historical romances, which are regularly found on the New
York Times bestseller list. When she is not busily working on her next book,
Suzanne likes to contemplate interesting phenomena, like how the three guppies
in her aquarium became 161 guppies in five months.
Some of Suzanne’s books include Barefoot In The Dark, I’ts Getting Scot in Here, Lady Whistledown Stirkes Back and The Legend of Nimway Hall.