Snowy Night with a Highlander Read Online Free PDF

coach to Edinburra? It comes round four o’clock,” Ridley suggested.
    “What? No! No, no, I canna go back to Edinburra! No’ now, Mr. Ridley—I’ve tarried too long as it is. I must find my brother before it is too late.”
    “Aye,” Ridley said, and eyed the wagon. “Well then . . .”
    “Oh, for God’s sake!” Lady Fiona snapped, and whirled around, marching for the back of the wagon. Ridley scarcely reached her in time to help her before she launched herself into the back.
    Duncan watched the wagon bounce and move from side to side as she made her way to the bench and the brazier that had surely gone cold by now. He imagined her stomping through the supplies and sitting hard on the even harder bench. It had been a long time since he’d been in the company of a woman, but he’d not forgotten the strength of a woman’s ire.
    When Ridley had put the gate of the wagon up and locked it in place, he gave Duncan a look of pure misery. Duncan sighed. “It remains to be seen which of us has drawn the worst hand, Ridley.”
    “Aye, milord,” Ridley said weakly, and took the reins of Duncan’s horse. Duncan waited until he’d mounted and was on his way before he climbed up onto the wagon’s outside bench. He wrapped the reins around his badhand, picked up the driving whip, and touched the neck of the lead horse with it. “Walk on,” he said to the team, and flicked the reins against them.
    As the coach lurched forward, he heard a tiny squeal of alarm just behind him and glanced heavenward in a silent appeal for strength.
    Fortunately, his passenger remained quiet for most of the afternoon, save a cry of alarm every so often when the wagon hit a rut. He was lost in thought when he realized the sound he was hearing was not a squeak of the axle, but Lady Fiona, who, at that very moment, shouted, “Pardon!”
    He did not stop the team from trotting along but leaned to one side and said, “Aye?”
    “Will you please stop?” she cried. “I really must have you stop!”
    Duncan reluctantly pulled the team to a halt. The horses had been in a rhythm of their own and stomped and snorted their displeasure.
    “Aye?” he said again.
    “I need . . . I should like . . . Lord, ” she said, and the wagon began to bounce a bit. She was climbing out.
    Duncan quickly unwound the reins from his hand and leaped from the bench, striding to the back of the wagon, reaching it just in time to see a lovely derrière sliding over the back gate. He reached up with the thought to help her, thought the better of it, and dropped his hand as she took the last step—misjudging it, of course—and stumbled to her feet, knocking against the wagon in a desperate bid to keep herself upright. When she was certain she was on the ground, she adjusted her bonnet, turned, and looked up at him with a pair of golden eyes with a coppery tint.
    He wondered fleetingly how he’d missed such remarkable eyes all those years ago.
    “I didna wish to disturb you, sir, but the truth is, what with all the jostling and banging about, I really must . . . I need  . . .”
    She was too much of a lady to bring herself to admit it, so Duncan bowed and gestured grandly to the forest that lined either side of the road. She squinted in the direction he pointed and then bit her lower lip before glancing at him sidelong. “I donna suppose there is another alternative, then?”
    Under his scarf, he allowed himself a ghost of a smile.
    “What if there are creatures? Or worse, highwaymen?”
    He moved slightly, just enough to open the vent of his greatcoat, and showed her the pistol he wore at his side.
    “Ah,” she said, nodding. “That should come in quite handy . . . for you . Likely I will be dead, either from shame or shock, by the time you reach me. If indeed you intend to reach me.” She glanced at him again. “Well then, Mr. Duncan, if you will excuse me?” And with that, she marched off the road, stepping gingerly into the trees. She