Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] Read Online Free PDF Page B

stared verra boldly at him. Ye barely spoke to the man at sup, and must I remind ye again of how dreadful your posture was at the table? Ye sit as a man, Ella. If I may be so bold, ye have made enough errors in judgment that ye should be taking my instruction willingly. Now if ye will excuse me, Angus awaits. Mayhap we will be able to speak again on the morrow when ye arenae so sensitive.”
    Sensitive?
    “Mary, I love ye dearly, but take your leave before I strangle ye with my bare hands,” Sybella warned.
    Stunned by Sybella’s bluntness, Mary snapped her mouth shut. She turned on her heel and strode out the door. Even though it pained Sybella to admit as much, Mary did have a valid point. She had barely conversed with Alexander this eve. She needed to remind herself to make it a personal goal not to call him Alex. God forbid she surrendered that easily and gave the rogue the satisfaction of knowing she’d lowered her defenses.
    Taking a deep breath, she drew the conclusion that this was probably not the best way to start a marriage. She hadn’t tried to speak or make pleasantries with the man because frankly, she didn’t give a damn about him. But granted, the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her father. It was important she please him, make him proud. Laird Kenneth MacKenzie was truly a great man and deserved a daughter who was not an embarrassment to the clan.
    Sybella rose from the bed and straightened her gown. What she needed was some fresh air, a new perspective. Perhaps a brisk walk on the parapet would help to clear the haze. She was proceeding out the door when a scraping noise sounded from the opposite end of the hall.
    “Is anyone there?” asked Sybella. When no one answered, she closed the door and continued with her purpose.
    When she reached the door to the parapet, she saw a disheveled man who had his arm draped over a voluptuous woman with fiery red tresses. Sybella presumed the drunken man was a MacDonell from his bawdy laughter—well, that and the fact that he was wearing a MacDonell plaid. The man pulled the woman roughly, almost violently, to him against the stone wall.
    Sybella’s temper flared.
    She was about to defend the helpless woman when she froze midstep. The woman responded—by burying her lips against the MacDonell man’s throat and sliding her leg up around his waist. Suddenly, she didn’t appear as helpless as Sybella had initially thought. When the woman proceeded to slip her hands underneath the MacDonell man’s kilt and his expression tightened with strain, Sybella’s eyes rounded with comprehension.
    The woman did not need saving.
    It wasn’t as if Sybella hadn’t spied on Colin enough to know how the act was done, but she couldn’t disguise her body’s reaction to the sight displayed so openly before her eyes. The man and woman pawed at each other out in the open, not in a bedchamber. At least her brother had enough sense not to be so visible. He would’ve taken his leman to a bed or at least sought a hidden hayloft. But no matter how disturbed she was by witnessing their carefree touches, Sybella could not find the strength to pull away.
    The man repositioned himself, and when he let out a guttural moan, Sybella could not help the loud gasp that escaped her lungs. The man’s head turned slightly toward her, and then he gently pushed the woman away from him.
    “M’lady.” He attempted to give her a low bow as his companion steadied him. The woman tried to straighten her clothing while the man spoke, his words barely comprehensible. “We were heading to the p-p-parapet. Unless of course, ye w-w-wanted …”
    Sybella was glad of the semidarkness that hid the flush on her cheeks. “Nay, I was returning to my chamber. Thank ye.” The last thing she wanted was to be in the middle of a lovers’ tryst, let alone spying on one. What the hell was the matter with her? Why hadn’t she fled when she had the chance?
    She walked hastily through the halls,