Scottish Brides Read Online Free PDF Page A

with the scent of him, and his breath huffed from beneath his parted lips. Her fingers hovered so close to his chest that she could feel the heat of him, but she shrank before his forward motion. Something in her insisted she not touch him. Not if she wanted to cleave to her resolution to remain alone and not risk—
    She could see, through the blackness of his pupils, the determination that steered him. His breath caressed her cheek. “Andra.”
    A like determination blazed through her; he would not intimidate her. She shoved at him hard. “Get off me, you big oaf. Who do you think you are? Some kind of English reiver?”
    He rolled off her and flopped flat on his back, covering his eyes with his arm. She experienced a measure of satisfaction—and unacknowledged relief. She wasn’t so wrong about her reading of Hadden’s disposition, then. He wouldn’t kick a dog, or slap a servant, or kiss a lass against her will. He was a nice man, a malleable man.
    In time, he would do as she’d predicted all those months ago. He would forget about her.
    Sitting up, she looked at his outstretched figure. Yet she had imagined he would forget before Castle MacNachtan disappeared at his back. And she never thought he would have been so irate. Cautiously, she slid away from him and farther into the attic. Could there be other facets of his character that she had evaluated incorrectly?
    â€œIs that it?” He sounded carefully bland, like a gambler determined not to show his hand, and still he hid beneath the cover of his arm.
    â€œWas that what?” she asked cautiously.
    â€œWas that the reason you wouldn’t accept my suit? That I am English?”
    â€œNo, of course not.”
    â€œThen it’s my family.”
    â€œYour family?”
    â€œPerhaps the infamy of the Fairchilds has spread even into the Highlands of Scotland. You’ve heard the tales, and you’re reluctant to graft such a shrub to your illustrious family tree.”
    Startled, she considered him; he was handsome, honorable, and kind, she could scarcely believe his protestations—and she’d be damned if she’d tell him the real reason. “I’ve never heard of your family.”
    â€œThen you’re worried that my sister raised me, and she did not, perhaps, do as well as parents would. Yet let me assure you, she loved me dearly and taught me well. I have the manners and morals of a man raised by the sternest father.”
    â€œI know that, for in the Highlands,” she said loftily, “we judge a man by his character, not by his background.”
    He took his arm away from his face and stared at the ceiling. “Really? And how do you judge my character?”
    She swallowed. “You said you wanted to marry me, but I knew you didn’t . . . you were just infatuated.”
    Turning his head, he examined her thoroughly. “Really.”
    She scooted a little farther away and wished she could scoot down the stairs and out the door, and run and hide from that enigmatic, knowing gaze. She didn’t like the combination of restraint and recklessness he displayed. It made her unsure of herself—and of her control over him. She wasn’t used to feeling like this: nervy, like a horse to be broken and ridden at will. She was the lady, and always in command.
    Why, then, was her heart beating a little too fast? Why did her breath catch, and the faintest dew cover her forehead? Was it because she feared he would force her to tell him the truth? A truth that even she pretended did not exist?
    Deliberately, as she had done so many times these months, she turned her mind away to tasks and duties. She couldn’t think about it now, so she looked around the chamber. After all, a mistress must oversee the labor of her people.
    And the condition of the tower proved that her people could be depended upon, regardless of the task, All traces of dust had been swept away. The