The Groom Wore Plaid: Highland Weddings Read Online Free PDF Page B

father had set. He was determined to be a different chief, one who spent more time with his people when he was home. He would do his duty and serve in the House of Lords for several months each year, but when he was home, he would be a Highlander.
    He was wearing his belted plaid for the first time in a long while, and he’d seen the way the stable grooms, even the marshal, had eyed him. No one showed outright skepticism, but he sensed it, there beneath the surface. There was no way to undo the damage his father had done to the chiefdom, except to lead by example and to prove his worth.
    And then Maggie arrived in the hall, radiant in a rose-colored gown that set off her creamy skin, her hair a dark, silky cloud about her head. Owen was standing before he even realized it. Several tables werefull of clansmen, and they, too, noticed her, as all conversations died. No one else stood at first, and Owen was about to rake them all with a deadly gaze, until an elderly lady rose to her feet, leaning heavily on a cane. With reluctance, more followed, and he saw Maggie blush as she stood in the doorway, an ethereal sprite amid uncouth Highlanders. He would have to introduce her to his clan in an elaborate way, so that they’d begin to accept her.
    He strode to escort her the rest of the way, and saw her eyes dip to his garments and then widen.
    “Ye’re pretending to be a Highlander now, are ye?” she asked.
    “Pretending? I don’t have to pretend what I’ve earned from my ancestors.” He had also donned a black armband for his father, but Maggie didn’t comment on that. She wasn’t wearing mourning for her own father. From what he remembered of her stories when they were young, he didn’t blame her.
    “Ye just look different, as if ye want everyone to forget ye’re an earl.”
    “I am a Scottish earl. And remember, I’m not an earl to you, Maggie, but a bridegroom.”
    With an impudent toss of her head, she looked away. He glanced down her body, seeing the way she had more curves than he remembered. She had lush breasts shown off to perfection by her stays, and her gown flowed out from her narrow waist, hinting at a curve of hip that made him want to test it with his hands.
    He put out his arm, and her cool hesitation before taking it made him grind his teeth. He saw her into her chair and then sat beside her. Trays of roasted venison, mutton, and hares; bowls of turnips, leeks, and cabbage were displayed before them both. She filled up her plate, then set to eating as if she could ignore him that way. She kept her eyes downcast, but more than once, when she raised them to a servant, their own eyes widened at her different-colored eyes, and they crossed themselves. That had to be an annoying reaction. He would speak to Mrs. Robertson about it.
    “Did you have a pleasant morning?” he asked.
    “Mrs. Robertson gave me a tour of the castle,” she said.
    Boldly she looked about, since many were staring and not doing a good job of hiding it. Owen arched an eyebrow as he glanced pointedly at the clan, and most immediately returned to their meal.
    “What did you think of your new home?” he asked.
    “’Tis an adequate fortress.”
    She wasn’t going to give an inch. “The clan has several, but I thought you’d be most comfortable here, nearer your kin.”
    “We have several castles as well. We’re not competing over this, are we?”
    “Of course not,” he said impassively.
    He let her return to eating silently for several minutes, but he found it was difficult to keep quiet whenhe still had questions. “What did you like about Castle Kinlochard? It’s to be your home, after all.”
    She considered him with narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to trap her.
    “I like your library,” she said at last. “My father did not believe in books for their own sake, just what was needed for the estates. Whereas ye have so many.”
    “Surely you remembered my focus on educating myself,” he said. Alluding to their