When the Laird Returns Read Online Free PDF Page A

tucked into his boot, Iseabalclosed her eyes, searching for that warm, dark place where she hid in moments like these.
    She felt the knife point against the fleshy part of her hand at the base of her thumb and willed herself not to pull away. Her punishment was only greater if she fled from it.
    “Tell me of the man you met,” he said, sliding the blade smoothly from wrist to the tip of Iseabal’s longest finger. There was not enough pressure to slice into her skin, but the threat was there nonetheless.
    Her eyes flew open. “The MacRae?”
    “The one,” he said, resting the knife point against the base of her finger. As if, she thought in a surge of wild panic, he meant to slice it off.
    “He is a man like any other,” she said, trembling.
    “His appearance?”
    “Tall, with a full beard. Blue eyes,” she added. “So lightly colored they seemed almost clear.”
    “MacRae eyes,” he said, staring off into the distance as if seeing the man she’d met. Moments ticked by ponderously before his attention returned once more to her.
    “What shall your punishment be, Iseabal?” he asked, staring down at her hand. “Shall I cut a few fingers or remove one? Tell me, how shall I teach you to obey me?”
    Her hand trembled, but Iseabal remained silent. The ice in her stomach flowed outward to her toes and fingers at the same time that she began to taste the familiar sourness of fear.
    “Perhaps a nick here,” he said, making a mark on the base of her thumb. Instantly blood welled up to fill in the curved pattern. A D for Drummond? Or for defiant? Desperate , her mind contributed.
    “The maids will search your chamber and bring everything of value to me. Perhaps being forbidden to leave your room until you’re wed will teach you to obey me. Not the lesson you deserve, Iseabal, but one that will remind you who I am.”
    He could not beat her, she suddenly realized, or cut her. To do so would be to affect her worth to a future husband. She should have known that her father’s greed would be greater than his rage.
    Iseabal remained silent, a lesson she’d learned as a child, never to challenge her father. Yet even if her occasional rebellions were no longer possible, her thoughts were secret and her own.
    Slowly, he removed the knife from her hand, dismissing her with a gesture. She clenched her hand tightly in order to stop the bleeding, escaping her father before he could change his mind and make the punishment worse.

Chapter 3
    “A t least we know what happened to Fort William,” Alisdair said, staring up at the south face of the Drummond fortress.
    “I never thought that a Scot would use the bricks of an English fort to build his home,” Daniel said disgustedly.
    They approached Fernleigh at a leisurely pace, giving Drummond’s people enough time to send word of their arrival.
    “Are you certain you wish to do this, Alisdair?” Daniel asked worriedly. “We should have brought the entire crew.”
    “I doubt Drummond is as ferocious as all that, Daniel,” Alisdair said, smiling.
    “What makes you think he’ll listen to you?”
    “What makes you think he won’t?”
    “He’s a Drummond,” Daniel said simply. “That’s why.”
    They halted before the front door, made of oak andbanded with iron. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem designed for the structure, causing Alisdair to wonder if Drummond’s greed had extended to taking not only English bricks but part of Gilmuir. Perhaps the final destruction of the old castle was not due to the English at all, but was the work of another Scot.
    “You can’t be so foolish as to go in there alone?” Daniel asked incredulously when Alisdair waved him back.
    Alisdair nodded, gripping the iron knocker. The door opened slowly, as if Fernleigh welcomed visitors only grudgingly. A young man stood before him, his face stiff and expressionless.
    “I’m here to see Drummond,” Alisdair said.
    “And who would you be?”
    “Alisdair MacRae.”
    A moment later the