The Devil Wears Kilts Read Online Free PDF

out over the quiet avenue. It stood three stories tall, which he imagined was the origin of its name—Tall House. “It’ll do,” he finally said, realizing that the bony fellow wouldn’t stop nagging at him until he gave an answer. “Though I’d like it better if it had more than two doors to the outside.”
    “I’m glad you approve, my lord. You gave me such little notice—only an hour, if you’ll recall—but I believe Tall House is the finest establishment currently available to let. With the Season beginning in earnest, you know, simply everyone flocks to London.”
    Everyone plus one damned stubborn younger sister. “You’ll have yer fee by the end of the day,” Ranulf returned, wondering if it was permissible to call Tall House by a different name while he stayed there. Frivolous House with Nae Enough Escape Routes, perhaps.
    “Oh, I didn’t mean to press—of course you’re not well known here, but your uncle is, and I’ve no worry that you would keep me waiting.”
    Ranulf angled his chin toward the front door. Immediately Owen, who’d spent the previous twenty minutes shadowing the solicitor, stepped forward. “Let’s get ye on yer way, Mr. Black,” he said, blocking the fellow when he would have followed Ranulf into yet another room.
    “Certainly, certainly. With you being new to London, Lord Glengask, if you require the services of a solicitor I would be honored to—”
    “The laird has yer wee card, Mr. Black, as ye nearly shoved it into ’is pocket. The door is this way.”
    Mr. Black blinked. “I say, that’s quite forward of you. Lord Glengask, your servants need more schooling in proper behavior.”
    Drawing in a breath, Ranulf faced the red-cheeked solicitor. “I think it’s ye who needs schooling, if it takes a man three tries to get ye to leave when ye’re no longer needed. Good mornin’, and if that’s not clear enough fer ye, good-bye.”
    The solicitor opened his mouth. Ranulf continued to gaze at him levelly, and then Una began a low, rumbling growl from where she stood at the window. A heartbeat later, still wordlessly, Mr. Black turned around and left the hallway, Owen grinning behind him.
    “Amadan,” Ranulf muttered, though Mr. Black seemed more a bootlicker than a fool. Or, more likely, he was the fool in all this.
    After all, he’d agreed to allow Rowena to remain in London, in an English household, of all damned things, for a fortnight. Where he couldn’t hear what nonsense she was being told. And worse, where he couldn’t be assured of her safety.
    “M’laird, the Sasannach has departed,” Owen said, returning to the doorway. “I doubt he’ll darken these halls again, at least while we’re in residence.”
    “Good. Thank ye, Owen.”
    The footman nodded. Shifting, he scowled. “I need t’say someaught to ye, Laird Glengask.”
    “Then do so.”
    “Peter and I are pleased and proud to be here with ye. Very proud. And so is Debny. But … we are nae enough. With ye staying on in London, ye’ll have need of a cook and a valet, and more eyes ye can trust t’keep ye and Lady Winnie safe.”
    Ranulf nodded. He’d intended to retrieve Rowena, spend the night at an inn, and be on the way north by sunrise. Nothing his sister said would have changed his mind or his plans. No, for that he could thank that woman . Lady Charlotte Hanover. She hadn’t so much as raised her voice, and yet now he’d rented a house in Mayfair and given his sister over to an English aristocrat’s family.
    “My uncle’s in Town,” he said slowly, wondering what Myles Wilkie would have to say about all this—and not liking the answer he came up with. “I’ll send Peter over with a note, asking if he knows of any likely lads we can trust.”
    “But Lord Swansley’s English,” Owen said, making the word a curse.
    “Aye, but he’s also family. And he spent ten years at Glengask, raising the likes of my brothers and sister. He’ll know what we require, whatever he