The Rogue Read Online Free PDF Page B

“These belong to the gentlemen visitors.”
    â€œGentlemen?” She moved toward the unfamiliar horses.
    And her steps faltered.
    The two animals in the stall did not belong to Dr. John Shaw or his daughter. Beside a pretty chestnut stood a bay with such a rich brown coat that in the shadows it looked nearly black. It was gorgeous, with long legs and a powerful neck, ears pointed forward, and intelligent eyes watching her. She recognized it. Its beauty and breeding made it unique. And she recognized its tack. Its bridle of supple leather was surmounted by a brow band imprinted with two black, crossed swords. The saddle was of finely tooled leather, with holsters for the scabbards of two swords sewn carefully onto either side so that the weapons would not disturb the animal’s gait.
    She knew this animal because eight months earlier she had spent three silent hours tucked into the corner of a public stable in London watching it—watching, and waiting for its master to return and claim it. When he had, he had settled into that saddle with the ease and grace of a warrior.
    Cheeks hot and hands unsteady, she swept the train of her riding skirt into the crook of her arm and left the stable. The castle forecourt was empty, but two dozen windows stared down at her like eyes that seemed as shocked as her frantic pulse. She crossed the threshold and pretended not to hold her breath.
    In the hall, her father’s voice came down from the balustrade, quiet and firm, stone wrapped in felt.
    â€œCastle Read was built in the early fourteenth century as a fortress, with little concern for comfort. Each of my predecessors made additions to it. There are plenty of guest rooms now. I shall have my housekeeper make up the finest for you, my lord.”
    â€œTerribly decent of you to take me in uninvited.” A man’s voice, light, jaunty. “I’m much obliged.”
    Not . . . not him .
    Air seeped back into Constance’s lungs.
    Then deserted her entirely.
    Upon the stairs beyond the chandelier descended two feet encased in knee-high boots the color of earth. Two legs clad in leather breeches that shaped the muscle like carved stone. Two hands, ungloved, strength apparent in the sinews. Two shoulders to which she had once clung like sunshine to a stained-glass window. And one long, steel blade upon which the remaining light of day seemed to gather.
    Then his eyes—eyes that captured a hundred ancient incantations and turned them into magic, that had once thrust her world upside down. Now he turned them upon her. How the touch of a man’s gaze could seize everything inside her and lock it into paralysis, she had never understood. Certainly not then. And not now.
    She stared.
    Behind him, her father and the other man appeared on the stairs.
    â€œThere is my daughter now. Constance, I required your presence here for tea. But I see you have been riding.”
    â€œI have been to the ridge to see Haiknayes.” She hardly knew how she spoke.
    â€œI see.” Displeasure sat upon his tongue like a cockerel. “Constance, I present to you Lord Michaels and Mr. Sterling. Perhaps you and his lordship have crossed paths in London.”
    They had not. She had intentionally avoided him.
    She curtsied. “My lord.”
    A dimple dented Lord Michaels’s cheek as he bent at the waist. He was an attractive man, nattily dressed in a nip-waist coat and shiny Hessians, as though he weren’t now in the Scottish countryside but paying morning calls in London.
    â€œTruly delighted, my lady. I hope you don’t mind that I have imposed myself on your hospitality.”
    â€œOf course not.”
    â€œDo tell us,” he said, “how was your viewing of Haiknayes Castle?”
    â€œFrom a distance only. Are you acquainted with it?”
    â€œRather, with the duke himself. In fact, I had reason to pay a call on him at the Christmas holidays only a few months ago, at Port