When a Scot Loves a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

Vale, a year ago. Your wife served us an excellent roast and pudding. Will you have the same for me and Lady Katherine tonight, and bedchambers?”
    â€œOf course, miss.” He smiled amiably and reached for their cloaks. “My missus will send your girls right up to prepare the chambers.”
    â€œOur maids are behind, still on the road,” as well as Emily’s companion, the formidable Madame Roche. London gossips had made Kitty’s unwed state a happy topic for five years now; she deserved spinsterhood after flaunting her love affair with Lambert Poole, they tittered. But as yet those gossips had little for which to criticize Emily, except of course her friendship with Kitty. Not that Emily would give a fig for it. Content in her books, she didn’t even care that the highest sticklers considered Kitty unfit company for a maiden.
    But Kitty cared for Emily’s spotless reputation on her friend’s behalf. It seemed, however, that an unchaperoned night on the road could not be helped.
    Mr. Milch clucked his tongue. “Well, then make yourselves comfortable.” He gestured them from the foyer. “I’ll fetch my Gert to see after you while Ned and I arrange matters with your coachman. I hope he’ll be all right sleeping at the pub a’ways. We’re all filled up here.”
    Emily nodded. “I don’t suppose Pen shall mind over much if he has good woolens.” Good woolens, good books, and good conversation—Emily Vale’s only needs. A practical girl, she was unconcerned with a person’s wayward past. It made her a lovely friend, one of Kitty’s few and cherished.
    The ground floor of the inn was a modest chamber divided into two parts by the stair to the upper story. Two square tables flanked by benches and laid with plain lace coverings adorned the right side, and on the left a sofa and a pair of threadbare chairs crouched before a hearth. On the walls hung quilted samplers and an impressive rack of antlers, the windows draped with unadorned wool. The place smelled of onions and mutton stew and coffee.
    â€œKitty,” Emily said flatly, looking about the chamber, “I suspect you’ve never been in such a place in your life. You will never forgive me.”
    â€œDon’t be absurd. It is delightful.” Rustic and shockingly simple.
    The rug before the hearth shifted. Kitty leaped back. A gray shaggy head lifted from the floor and stared at her with great, deep eyes. Smiling, she removed her muffler and hat, and stepped to the fireplace, taking care not to tread on the dog’s tail and holding her palms out for warmth.
    â€œI suppose it cannot be helped, as you say.” Emily dropped her slight form into a chair without any grace whatsoever, threw her damp bonnet onto her lap, and ran her fingers through her short locks in a manly gesture. For eighteen, she lacked every female grace and was a thorough relief from the rigidly cool femininity Kitty had perfected over the past five years.
    She chuckled. “Really, you needn’t fret. But where exactly are we?”
    â€œI daresay quite near Shrewsbury. Pen said we came to the Severn hours ago. But Kitty, I cannot help being concerned.” Her fingertips scratched at the bonnet’s brim.
    â€œEmily—”
    Emily’s bow-shaped lips pursed.
    â€œ Marie ,” Kitty corrected. “You mustn’t worry. Even if the snow does not persist long enough to hold us from Willows Hall while Mr. Worthmore remains there, I will devise a plan to dissuade your parents from this unsuitable match. I promise.”
    Emily’s fine features set in earnest lines. “That is why I asked you to come, Kitty, because you are terribly clever with this sort of thing. This situation my parents have devised entirely befuddles me, but I know it shan’t pose any problem for you. After all, if you could rout a lord from Britain so successfully last summer, you can