Rogue with a Brogue Read Online Free PDF Page A

man to protect her. The lapse made the Campbells all the more foolish.
    â€œWell, lass?” he pursued. “Dunnae ye at least have a slap or a good set-down for a MacLawry? Or is the joke nae as amusing now that I ken who ye are?”
    Mary tilted her head as she studied his face for a long moment. He had no idea what she thought to see; everyone in the Highlands knew that the second MacLawry was the current heir to the Marquis of Glengask, that he’d served four years in the British army on the Continent, that he was a crack shot, that he wasn’t to be trifled with. Except that she had trifled with him, damn it all.
    â€œI’m on my way to Bond Street to meet some friends,” she said after a moment. “You’re welcome to escort me. Do MacLawrys purchase bonnets?”
    â€œNae me personally,” he returned, hiding his surprise and falling in beside her when she started off again. “My sister’s been known to wear them with some frequency.”
    â€œYour younger sister, yes? The peacock mask from last night.”
    Arran clenched his jaw, fighting the deep-rooted mistrust in having a conversation with a Campbell. Especially when the conversation turned to his family. But he’d approached her —twice, now. “Aye,” he said aloud, nodding. “Rowena. The youngest among us. She turned eighteen just a few weeks past.”
    â€œAnd there’s your oldest brother, Lord Glengask. Are you the second or the third brother?”
    â€œThe second. Munro’s between Rowena and me.”
    â€œHe’s the one they—you—call Bear.”
    â€œAye. And ye’re the only child of Fendarrow, who happens to be the heir to the Duke of Alkirk.” There. He could recite her lineage, too, now that he knew who she was. When he glanced sideways at her, she was already looking at him, a half smile on her oval face. “What do ye find so amusing then, lass?”
    â€œIt’s just that this conversation feels a bit like a saber dance.”
    â€œYe’re the one who didnae tell the truth last night,” he returned. Perhaps she wasn’t accustomed to conversations as careful as chess matches, but he was. “I gave ye my name.”
    â€œAnd if I’d given you my name, we would never have finished that waltz. Something would have happened, and you would have ended up in a fight with my cousins. So I saved you by withholding the truth, Arran MacLawry.”
    â€œThat’s the way ye mean to view it, then? That ye did me a favor by flirting with me and naming yerself Lady Vixen?”
    She stopped to face him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “ You called me that. I simply chose not to disagree with you. Don’t try to turn this into a battle, when all I did was try to avoid one. On your behalf, I might add.”
    Hm. He’d expected a wilting flower, a lass who would be cowed and frightened once she realized he’d discovered her identity. But Mary Campbell had her chin lifted, and her forefinger still stuck into his ribs. For such a petite thing she had better than a full portion of courage, to stand toe-to-toe with him.
    Arran tilted his head. “Then ye want me to thank ye, I suppose?”
    The finger she had dug into his sternum twitched, then abruptly retreated. “No. You don’t need to thank me.” Slowly she turned to face the row of shops again and resumed her walk. “I was only attempting to explain why I deceived you. Or rather, neglected to tell you the truth.”
    He caught up to her, sending a glance at Mary’s older, frowny companion. “So ye had my best interest in mind, did ye?”
    â€œI—”
    â€œI appreciate it, I suppose, considering how many of yer cousins were at the party last night. I might have got my nose broken. That would make the lasses at home weep.”
    â€œOh, please,” she retorted, a chuckle bursting from her chest.
    His own mouth curved