The Highlander's Choice Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Yes, I would—lad.”
    Again that resounding laugh that drew attention from those close by. He tugged her close to his body, much too near, as far as she was concerned, and led her to the row of dancers. For a large man, he was graceful and an excellent dancer. His broad shoulders blocked out the rest of the room, so all she could see was his dark evening jacket, white waistcoat, and a neck cloth tied in a manner that would pass the toughest scrutiny in a London ballroom.
    Except for his ginger colored hair, drawn away from his face once more, and tied with a ribbon at his nape, he could easily pass for an English gentleman. However, his size would still stand out. She’d never seen a man as overpowering as the Scot.
    As they moved into a turn, he pulled her closer until she felt the strong muscles of his legs much too close to hers. The heat from his body warmed her, reminding her that he danced indecently near. She attempted to pull back, but he held her firm. “’Tis much too crowded, lass. Ye almost bumped into another dancer. Mayhap when the number ends we should take a stroll in the garden.”
    The last thing she wanted was to spend time in a dark garden with this man who confused her so. Being a Scot, he most likely wanted to dally with her—see how far she would let him go. She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “I will not be strolling with you in the dark garden.”
    “Ye wound me, lass. Surely ye dinna think I would take advantage of ye?”
    “That is precisely what I think.”
    He actually looked wounded, and she almost laughed out loud. As if he thought she was innocent enough not to know what a stroll in a dark garden meant. She hadn’t survived four seasons in London without learning some things.
    His lively eyes continued to stare at her until she grew uncomfortable. “Ach, mayhap you’re right, lass. A walk in the garden is not a good idea.”
    The music finished, and Sybil curtsied to her partner and turned to continue looking for Margaret. To her annoyance, Liam stayed by her side, although truth be told, his size cleared a path for them much faster than she would have been able to do by herself.
    “Lady Sybil, is that you?”
    She turned to see Lord Warwick making his way through the crowd toward her. Her stomach tightened, remembering the last time she’d seen him in London. He’d been quite anxious for her to accept his suit, but she felt nothing for the man except slight friendship. That hadn’t stopped him, however, from trying to compromise her at the Kennedy ball.
    In addition, she’d heard he had run through his inheritance and was actively looking for a wife with a substantial dowry. No doubt so he could continue with his wastrel ways. Even if she did feel differently about him, she had no plans to be any man’s bank account.
    “My lord, how pleasant to see you.” She offered her hand, attempting a smile.
    He took her hand and kissed the air above it, moving closer to her than she would have liked. She backed up and stepped on Liam’s foot. Turning to him, she said, “May I present David, Marquess of Warwick?” She paused and added, “and this, my lord, is Laird Liam MacBride.”
    The men nodded briefly and eyed each other like two animals in a cage about to pounce on a piece of meat between them. Sybil mentally rolled her eyes at the performance. Honestly, neither man had a claim on her, so all their affectation was for naught. It was a problem she and Sarah had encountered many times during their Season.
    “What brings you to Dundas, my lord?” Sybil asked.
    “The McKinnon is related to my mother in some way.” He waved a careless hand. “Not sure exactly how it all works, but I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to flee London and get some fresh air.”
    More likely he was fleeing his creditors, but Sybil merely smiled.
    “And you?”
    “Lady Margaret is a close friend. I traveled with her and her parents a few days ago.” Either the crowd was