Charming the Shrew Read Online Free PDF Page A

left the country where his face was known?
    “I shall leave at first light.” Tayg quickly rolled up the Earl of Ross’s parchment.
    Angus actually chuckled. “Wise lad. I’ll do what I can to dissuade your mum from finding you a lass herself. In truth I think she sees trouble where it is not, or perhaps she simply pines for your bairns. See that you do not return too soon, or we may see you wed too quickly yet.”
    Tayg had packing to do and a drum to find, for he would be quit of these walls before sunrise. He gave a nod to his father and left the bear’s den, happy in his prospects, at least for the present.

CHAPTER TWO
    “L EAVE MY CHAMBER now!” Catriona MacLeod glared at her eldest brother, Broc, and pointed a finger at the door.
    He was aptly named, closely resembling the badger both in appearance and in temperament. Tall with a sharp face, midnight hair, and small eyes, he was quick to pick a fight and ruthless in defending his right to order about his many younger siblings. Catriona, the youngest, knew well how to deal with his brand of arrogance.
    He stepped toward her. “I am not finished instructing you in—”
    “It seems to me that the last time you ‘instructed’ me your porridge was burned every morning for a month, your bed collapsed beneath you, and—”
    “Enough!” he bellowed. Catriona enjoyed the crimson cast to his skin.
    “I am a woman grown and will run this castle as I see fit. If you do not like it, leave. ’Twould improve the smell greatly.”
    He stepped closer until they were nearly nose to nose and she could see the hardness in his dark eyes.
    “You will not run this castle with your demands and threats much longer, Triona,” Broc said. “Soon I will become chief, then my wife will see to its running and finally I will have some peace, a decent meal, and no more of your cutting tongue.”
    “Are you not forgetting something?” she said, moving away from him but not being so stupid as to take her eyes off him.
    “I never forget—”
    “You have no wife. Pity no one will marry a mighty lout like you.”
    “Unlike you, dear sister.” He surged forward and grabbed her arm, squeezing hard. Silently she cursed herself for not evading his grasp, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt her. “You will be married sooner than you imagine.”
    Catriona’s skin crawled at the quiet threat in his loathsome voice.
    “What do you mean?” she asked, despising the glint that danced in his eyes as a genuine smile spread across his face.
    Nothing good ever came of Broc’s good humor.
    “You will find out soon enough.” He released her and turned to leave. Catriona heard him snicker. “You will get your due.”
    “Tell me what you know or I’ll see that what remains of your precious hair falls out by month’s end.” Catriona knew each of her five brothers’ weaknesses and Broc’s was his hair. Long admired by the lasses for its glossy ebon waves, now, at only eight and twenty, it was thinning rapidly.
    Broc grimaced but turned back to face her. “Your betrothed—” the smile on his face turned to a sneer “—is to arrive a sennight hence. Three days more and you shall be married. We shall be rid of you.”
    Stunned, Catriona stared at him. “Who?” She hated that the word came out on a whisper.
    “’Tis a good question, that,” Broc said. “There is only one clan in all the Highlands who is so desperate for an alliance as to accept Triona the Shrew as a bride.”
    “Who?” she asked once more, her voice firmer now as she glowered at Broc. He was dangerously close to smiling again. “Who!”
    The smile crashed across his face and she wanted to smash a fist into it, but she had never been successful against her brothers that way and she needed to know her destiny. With a huge effort she held her fists at her sides, digging her fingernails into her palms.
    “Who am I to wed, Broc?” Her voice dripped with the contempt she felt for this