The Legend Mackinnon Read Online Free PDF Page A

living quarters demanded that they come to at least the bare minimum of accord. She was doing her part.
    “I do you no kindness, lassie.”
    “So you furnish this place for yourself? Why? I mean, do ghosts need creature comforts too?”
    “If ye mean do I like looking at bare walls and dusty floors, the answer is no.”
    “Is that how Lachlan left it, then? Empty? Judge Nash said he rented the place to hunters.”
    “Auld Lachlan hasn’t set foot here or rented the place in ages. Och, what peaceful months those were.” He sent a pointed look her way.
    She ignored it. “I understand he never lived here himself.” She wanted to keep him talking—she almost liked him when he wasn’t shouting at her and blinking in and out.
    “No, he never did. He lived out his last years in Scotland.” His gaze drifted to the dying fire. “The bastard.”
    His expression had gone from wary to bleak. He looked almost … lost. He was a ghost, wasn’t he? Obviously he had unresolved stuff he was dealing with or he wouldn’t be haunting this place. Maggie felt a tug at her heart and quickly squashed it. She had other things to worry about. Like how to get her life back and keep Judd from killing her.
    “Only one Claren has ever made this a home.”
    Maggie’s attention went back to Duncan. No way could she ignore that tantalizing bit of information. He was still staring at the fire. She doubted he was even aware he’d spoken out loud. Still bleak, his expression held anger now, too. It tightened the skin around his eyes, drew his mouth into a flat, uncompromising line.
    “I take it you weren’t too fond of that particular Claren,” she said.
    He turned and looked at her then. It wasn’t something as benign as anger coloring his expression. There was rage in those gray eyes of his. And it ran deep. Three hundred years deep?
    “Mairi.” He paused and she watched him visibly grapple for control. His jaw was locked tight when he said, “She was my betrothed.”
    The idea of him marrying anyone took her aback. She swallowed. “Then you loved her.”
    “Love had nothing to do with it.” He hadn’t yelled or even raised his voice. Somehow, the statement seemed even more lethal—and sad—for the complete lack of emotion vested in it. “Something you know of, I ken.”
    Maggie didn’t even stop to wonder at the wisdom of pursuing this path. If Lachlan was indeed her blood relative, then so was this Mairi Claren. She swallowed hard. Which meant she had ties beyond mere unfortunate circumstance to this ghost of a Scot. “Why marry her then?”
    “This was no feeble matter of the heart,” he stated with clear disgust. He leaned forward. “It was a matter of honor.”
    Maggie shrank back slightly at the fury in his eyes. A slight tick twitched the skin beneath his right eye. His jaw jutted out a bit further and from the corner of her eye, she saw he clutched the iron fire poker like a sword. When he spoke again, the deadly calm of his voice turned her skin to gooseflesh and made her scalp prickle in warning. Duncan MacKinnon had been a warrior, had likely died a warrior, and was a warrior still.
    “Our union would have ended too many years of feuding between Clan Claren and Clan MacKinnon. Mairi did not stand in honor to her clan. She chose to run, leaving my clansmen to die on Claren swords.”
    Maggie swallowed hard, understanding his earlier rage. She’d run too. She prayed Mairi had had different reasons than she had. “Didn’t she want your clans united?”
    “It was not up to her to make that decision. She was betrothed by her father, the clan chief.”
    “So her opinion meant nothing. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to ally her clan to yours.”
    “She didna want to ally herself to
me!
”
    Maggie smiled. “Ah, so now we get to the truth. It wasn’t politics. It was love. Or rather the lack of it.”
    “Love has nothing to do with these unions. Can you no’ hear me woman? ’Tis about