In the Highlander's Bed Read Online Free PDF Page A

well-timed shove out of the line, Constance didn’t bat an eyelash as the captain took the Scotsman’s place. She even smiled brilliantly at Ardmore as they reeled their way down the center of the other clapping dancers.
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    Mr. Lachlan was left to partner Lady Mary Alice.
    In fact, Constance thought it would be poetic justice if Mr. Lachlan ended up marrying Lady Mary Alice and had to wait on her hand and foot forever. That would teach him to keep his winks to himself.
    Nor did she balk when the dance was over and Captain Ardmore led her to the punch table on the other side of the room.
    Mr. Lachlan was stuck with Lady Mary Alice and Miss Heloise.
    Not that she cared, Constance told herself.
    She’d mentally drawn a line through Mr. Lachlan’s name. Let the other girls fight over him. She was running away. She’d best not forget it.
    Unfortunately, Captain Ardmore had decided she was now his, and his comrades had gathered around, each begging for a dance. They would keep her busy all night. She’d never have a moment to slip away.
    Constance took a sip of the punch Captain Ardmore offered her and decided the time had come for extreme measures.
    She dropped the cup, groaning loudly as she did so.
    “Miss Constance, is something the matter?” he asked.
    “Yes, I’ve suddenly taken—” She hesitated. “—violentlyill. Please excuse me.” Dramatically, she threw her hand over her mouth and charged through the ring of soldiers, heading for the stairs leading to the upstairs living quarters.
    As she suspected, considering her exit, Mistress Hillary followed close behind. Constance lingered at the staircase for her.
    “Miss Constance, have you become ill?”
    Constance sucked her cheeks, leaning against the banister. “I fear so,” she said in a small voice.
    “Oh, dear,” Mistress Hillary said, lifting her skirts to come up the stairs to attend her.
    “Please,” Constance said, warding her back with a frail hand. “I shall be fine. I just need to lie down a bit. You must see to our guests, especially since Mr. Fryson is not here. One of the maids will help me.”
    The reminder to Mistress Hillary that she was the only one in full authority did the trick. The headmistress stepped off the stairs. “You are right. I need to stay down here. Let me send Miss Esmay up to you.” Miss Esmay was the French teacher and very well liked.
    “No, she’s busy at the punch bowl,” Constance said. “But I need to go to bed…”
    She didn’t wait for a response, but started climbing the stairs as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders, a weight she threw off the moment she’d rounded the corner of the upstairs hallway. She counted to forty-five and peeked back down the stairs.
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    Headmistress Hillary was gone. At last, she was free to leave.
    Constance walked to the end of the hall and the stairway that led to the kitchen. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of feigning illness sooner. No one would bother a sleeping sick person, and she could have been well on her way to Edinburgh by now.
    The kitchen was deserted. All the servants were busy with the dance. Constance hurried across the room and slipped out the back garden door.
    Light poured out from the ballroom windows onto the lawn. Conscious of her white dress, she stayed to the shadows, making her way toward the bundle of clothing she’d hidden in the shrubberies and congratulating herself with every step toward freedom.
    Her skin tightened with the cold of the damp night air. The bundle contained a shawl, her beloved moccasins, and a sensible dress. She would change as soon as possible.
    She’d also thought to pack a book to while away the tedious days of sea travel, a novel by Maria Edgeworth,Castle Rackrent. Miss Esmay had lent it to her on the sly since it wasn’t approved