How to Entice an Enchantress Read Online Free PDF

courtyard. Angus wished his family had a crest, something equally intimidating. Perhaps a golden dragon carrying arrows or a large snake eating a baby, something to give his neighbors pause when they thought about fishing from his da’s pond.
    Reaching the coach, he nodded a greeting to the coachman before placing the carpeted steps upon the cobblestones. Then, just as MacDougal had taught him, he smoothed his hair and made certain his uniform was in place before he opened the door and stood at attention.
    Nothing happened.
    He remained still, straining his ears.
    Still no guest stirred within the coach.
    Angus frowned, wishing Miss Balfour wouldhurry, as the chill November wind was seeping through his woolen breeches. But the interior of the coach remained shrouded in silence.
    Other coaches pulled away, their occupants already walking toward the front door, their trunks being carried to the back entrance. Frowning, Angus shifted from one foot to the other, wondering what he should do. MacDougal’s instructions hadn’t covered this.
    The thought of her grace’s impatience made Angus sweat despite the chilly air. What if Miss Balfour hadn’t come? Surely the coachman would have said something . . . wouldn’t he?
    Finally, unable to stand the silence a moment more, he stole a quick glance inside the coach.
    It was not empty. The duchess’s guest was stretched out upon one cushioned seat, her head propped upon a bunched-up cloak, an open book under one hand, a carriage blanket on the floor where it had been across her legs. Her arm was thrown across her face as the softest of snores drifted from her lips.
    Angus rubbed his jaw. What was he to do now? He couldn’t just leave her sleeping in the coach. Nor could he stand here holding the door for hours on end. He would have to wake her—but what was the proper way to awaken a snoozing lady guest?
    Well, something had to be done. Angus glanced around the courtyard and, seeing no one within earshot, he leaned forward and cleared his throat as loudly as he could.
    Miss Balfour stirred, but didn’t awaken.
    Angus frowned. Nothing. Not a bloomin’ thing. He peered around again, and then rapped hard upon the door before stiffening to attention, his hands back at his sides.
    The young lady stirred more, and the book slipped off her lap. Instantly, as if yanked from her sleep by an invisible connection to the book, Miss Balfour lunged for it, catching it by the cover just before it hit the floor.
    Angus, who had jumped at her sudden movement, stared. The young lady was bent at the waist, her sudden movement leaving her hair partially undone and falling in odd loops about her face. Angus gulped as the young lady stared at him, her gray-blue eyes wide.
    Angus managed a smile. “Miss Balfour?”
    She blinked, her long lashes shadowing her eyes. “Yes?”
    “Pardon me fer wakin’ ye, but I’m to help ye fra’ the coach.”
    “Coach?” She blinked again, sleep still heavy in her eyes, and looked about as if she’d never seen a coach before.
    “Aye, miss. Ye were travelin’,” he added helpfully. “Ye’re comin’ to visit her grace, the Duchess of Roxburghe.”
    “Oh. Oh yes.” Miss Balfour slowly straightened. “For the Christmas Ball.”
    “Aye, miss! Ye were sleepin’. Ye were on yer way here, to Floors Castle, but ye’ve arrived and, ah . . .” He kindly pointed to the steps.
    “Of course.” She surprised him with a sleepy smilethat warmed him despite the wind. “I cannot believe I fell asleep—during the best scene in this book, too. There was a fight between the hero and the villain, and it was most thrilling. But apparently not thrilling enough to keep me awake.”
    She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs and then tried to smooth her riotous brown curls. As she patted them, she glanced around the coach floor. “Oh dear. I’m missing some pins. I’m always missing some pins.”
    Angus wisely kept quiet, though secretly he thought she