To Love a Highland Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page B

said softly.
    “Not necessarily. The house was quite a way out of town. The story I was told, the owners didn’t want to live here anymore. Think they tried to sell it, didn’t get any takers, and so turned it into what it is today.”
    Lachlan’s brow creased. No matter what Maggie said, giving up one’s home meant the next generation would have nowhere to live. It was a truly draconian move, likely driven by something the lass didn’t know about. He looked around, curious. Rather than a bedchamber, he saw a small, neat, sitting room with a leather couch and a puffy, soft-looking chair covered in flowered fabric. Something he couldn’t identify sat on a table; it looked like a mirror, but its surface was black. Books overflowed onto every available surface. He didn’t see any scrolls.
    The door snicked shut behind him. He heard the thunk of a lock falling into place.
    “There.” She walked around him and headed for the far end of the room. He recognized a table and chairs but not much else. “Can I make you some tea?”
    “Tea is a woman’s drink, lass. Have ye a stiff ale, or better still, whiskey?”
    Maggie spun and faced him. “I have both, but it’s not evening yet.”
    He frowned. “What? Is this some kind of rule? No spirits except weak beer until after dark?” He chuckled at the absurdity of it.
    She cocked her head to one side. “There’s a saying, It’s always five o’clock somewhere. ”
    “And that means?”
    “People use it as an excuse to drink whenever they want, because five at night is supposedly a safe time to begin drinking.”
    “I doona understand. Safe for whom?”
    “It doesn’t matter. Sit.” She waved her hands at the couch.
    “Will ye be sitting next to me?” he inquired archly.
    “Eventually. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea. You know,” she winked at him, “that women’s drink. And I’m going to make myself a sandwich.”
    “What is a sandwich?”
    “Bread, meat, cheese, mayonnaise—”
    “Might ye make one for me as well?”
    Maggie threw back her head and laughed. “I suppose after over three hundred years asleep, you’d be hungry. Christ! You’re like the male equivalent of Sleeping Beauty. ”
    “I doona understand.”
    “Look, if you don’t want to sit, come on into the kitchen. We can chat while I make us something to eat. Sleeping Beauty is a children’s story about a princess who was ensorcelled and slept for a hundred years.”
    “What wakens her?”
    “A handsome prince finds her and kisses her.”
    “Aye. At least some things havena changed—and likely never will.” He stepped to her side, watching as she drew items from a small cold box, rather like a spring room, filled a kettle, and set it on the stove. Flames leapt when she twisted a dial.
    Lachlan nodded to himself. Life had certainly improved if you didn’t have to light a fire to cook over and tend the kindling so it either didn’t go out or blaze so brightly the food burned. Not having to retreat outside to the spring house or the buttery for cold items was another improvement. “Where is the pump?” He tapped the kitchen faucet.
    She sliced bread from a loaf and laid four pieces on the counter. “Let’s see,” she mused. “Where to begin. There’s a city water system. Water comes to houses through underground pipes. All I have to do is turn the faucet.” Her eyes sparkled. “Put your hand under this.” She flipped a lever.
    Though he tried for equanimity, Lachlan felt his eyes widen. “’Tis hot.” He drew his hand back. “Ye doona have to heat bath water over a stove?”
    Maggie shook her head and returned to the bread, spreading something on it. “Nope. Why don’t you go check out the bathroom while I finish the sandwiches? I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
    Lachlan looked about. Bathroom should mean a room where a bathing tub was located. In poorer homes that was always the kitchen, usually behind a curtained alcove, yet he didn’t see any