The Tempting of Thomas Carrick Read Online Free PDF Page A

to it.

CHAPTER 2

    It was midafternoon when Thomas rode into the stable yard behind Carrick Manor. The clang of his gray gelding’s hooves on the cobbles brought first one, then two, then three clansmen from the stable.
    Sean reached Thomas first. The burly stableman caught Phantom’s bridle; as the big gray quieted, Sean looked up at Thomas, relief in his face. “You surely are a sight for sore eyes, laddie.”
    Mitch and Fred came striding up, smiles on their faces, warmth in their eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Thomas,” Fred called.
    “Aye.” Mitch tipped his head back to meet Thomas’s eyes. “Good thing, too.”
    Thomas returned their smiles. “It’s good to be back.” The response came by rote, yet, as he swung down from the saddle, he realized it was true. A sense of simple happiness, the expectation of meeting old friends and family he held dear, had slid through him in the instant he’d turned off the highway and started down the long drive.
    Handing the reins to Mitch, he said, as much to himself as to the three men, “I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.”
    Sobering, he glanced at Sean, the eldest of the three and officially the head stableman. “Forrester sent word about the Bradshaws.”
    Whatever was going on, it wouldn’t involve these three. Thomas knew where their loyalties lay—with Manachan and the clan—and no power on earth could have changed that. Aside from all else, the three were, like Thomas, clan orphans, orphans Manachan had taken in and watched over.
    “Aye.” The smile had fallen from Sean’s face, too. “Bad tidings.”
    “Bad doings, you ask me,” Mitch growled.
    Sean glanced at his subordinate—but, Thomas noted, Sean didn’t dismiss Mitch’s suggestion of foul play.
    Thomas shifted. “I’ll see what the laird has to say.”
    “Aye.” Fred nodded. “You do that. Be good that he knows.”
    About to turn for the house, Thomas paused, his gaze on Fred’s bland countenance. Then he looked at Mitch and finally at Sean; the three didn’t meet his eyes but were glancing at each other. “Manachan has been told about the Bradshaws, hasn’t he?”
    The three exchanged another glance, then Sean—still not meeting Thomas’s gaze, which Thomas found very odd—shrugged. “Can’t rightly say, can we? What we do know is that all in the house have been ordered not to tell hisself anything that might bother him.”
    “Ordered on pain of being sent away,” Mitch added in another low growl.
    Things were definitely not as they used to be—not as he’d assumed they were. Thomas gave a brief nod. “I’ll go and speak with him.”
    As he turned away, Sean asked, “You staying?”
    Striding for the house, Thomas glanced back. “I’ll probably ride out to the Bradshaws’.” He nodded at Phantom. “Walk him for now.”
    Sean tipped a finger in salute.
    Facing forward, his hands in his greatcoat pockets, Thomas continued to the house, climbed the front steps, and crossed the porch to the front door. Unsurprised to find it unlocked—this was the country, and one of the more isolated pockets, at that—he opened the door and walked into the front hall.
    Into a scene of domestic confusion.
    Four figures stood in the middle of the hall, talking in quiet but urgent tones, and all showing signs of consternation. Ferguson, the butler, was frowning and looked worried, while the housekeeper, Mrs. Kennedy, was as distracted as Thomas had ever seen her. The two footmen, waiting nearby, were openly anxious.
    All four glanced at Thomas as he paused just inside the open door. For one second, all looked blank; Thomas realized that with the light behind him, they couldn’t immediately see who he was. He reached back and pushed the door shut, then stepped forward; they recognized him, and relief washed over their features.
    Thomas’s chest tightened. “I heard about the Bradshaws. I’ve come to see the laird.”
    Beneath his breath, Ferguson muttered, “Thank God for that.”