Taken by the Laird Read Online Free PDF Page A

arrangement by the rain lashing viciously at the windows and the steam coming off her clothes. Feeling unnerved and out of her element, she leaned slightly forward toward the fire, relishing the welcome sensation of the heat on her hands and face. She was going to ignore what had just passed between them. By all accounts, this man was a master seducer. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he touched her.
    “You have my word that I am no criminal. I have a very good reason for wearing these clothes,” she said quietly, closing her eyes to savor the warmth of the fire. “But I cannot tell you.”
    “Cannot? Or will not?”
    Brianna looked around and saw him eyeing her backside. She quickly straightened and faced him. “’Tis the same.”
    “’Tis hardly the same, Miss MacLaren.”
    “But it is. For if you knew anything more about me, you would be in peril.”
     
    “Why?” Hugh asked, unconcerned. He stood in the heart of a stone fortress with rooms and secret passages that could be made impervious to attack if they still lived in an age of knights and damsels in distress. But it was nearly 1830, and men were much more civilized these days.
    The lass raised her head and continued. “Because my…my employer’s husband is…well, he…”
    “What about him? Did he make unwelcome advances?”
    She nodded, her cheeks coloring at the mention of it.
    It was obvious she did not wish to say more, but Hugh pressed her for information. He could think of no household near Muchalls where she might have been employed. More likely she was really from Stonehaven as he’d previously thought, or even Aberdeen, where there was any number of wealthy families. “You are a lady’s maid, then? Or a governess?”
    She hesitated for a fraction, then nodded again.
    “For what family?”
    “I cannot say, my lord.”
    “You mean you will not.”
    She shrugged. “It does not matter. I mean to make a fresh start. Far from—”
    He waited for her to give something away, but she stopped herself before he could learn anything useful. “In Dundee?” he asked.
    She swallowed, and his eyes were drawn to a small patch of her skin at her throat, exposed by the gap in her collar. He could almost taste her. “Yes. There are many fine houses there and I will surely be able to find employment.”
    “Without references?”
    His question seemed to take her aback, but when she turned to the fire, all Hugh could do was stand and gape at her delectable bottom as she bent forward once again to warm herself at the fire. The effect of male clothes on a comely female was altogether unexpected. Had Hugh realized what simple trews could do for a pair of feminine legs, he might have persuaded a mistress or two to give it a go.
    Trews or no, he didn’t trust Miss MacLaren any more than he’d trust a pirate bearing a flag of truce. He felt fairly sure that her background could not be coarse. Her features were too refined, her hands much too soft to have hauled tubs of brandy from the beach, or hidden those crates in the secret passageways of the castle. But a gentlewoman, she was not. They did not wander the countryside alone.
    She was hiding from someone, that much seemed clear. Perhaps her family had fallen on hard times and she had been forced into servitude. He understood that such women made excellent governesses, ladies’ companions, and even maids. And women in those positions were vulnerable to the advances of an unscrupulous master.
    Yet it was clear she was holding back information. Hugh was not entirely sure her tale of a lecherous employer was true, and he was not prepared to rule out the possibility that she had something to do with the embezzlement of his liquor. Perhaps she was a distributor of the brandy. A comely face and form would surely meet with a warm welcome at every inn and tavern across The Mearns where his liquor was sold. But even if that were so, Hugh could not credit her ability to steal any of his inventory without