Cowboys and Highlanders by Scott Tarah & Waters KyAnn

Author:Scott, Tarah & Waters, KyAnn [Scott, Tarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Broken Arm Publishing
Published: 2015-07-17T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Kiernan leaned back in his chair and studied Heddy. There was a flush in her cheeks and her eyes were clear. Being out of bed agreed with her. And he couldn't deny the ridiculous dress she wore agreed with him.

“More tea?” Mrs. Grayson asked.

Heddy shook her head and the housekeeper looked inquiringly at him.

“I’ve had quite enough tea for one day, thank you, Bridget.”

“Perhaps, then,” Heddy said, “you should be off attending to business.”

Kiernan rubbed his chin. “I have no business as interesting as you.”

Her lips thinned. “I am not Heddy.”

“You keep saying that. Yet, not once, have you offered an alternate identity.”

“I'm sure I told you that I’m Phoebe Wallington, Lord Albery’s niece.”

“No," he said. "I don’t think you did. I haven't had the pleasure of Lord Albery’s acquaintance.”

She raised a cool brow. “He spends little time in Scotland.” She faced Mrs. Grayson. “After three days, it must be clear I'm not who he thinks I am.” Heddy shot him a sidelong glance. “Even if I were, he had no right to kidnap me.”

“Kidnap?” He tsked. “Come now, Heddy, we have discussed this. If not for me, God knows what those brigands would have done—” The barking of dogs outside interrupted him. Kiernan rose and went to the window where he lifted the curtain and surveyed the street.

Mrs. Grayson stepped up beside him. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Heddy asked.

“Strangers,” he replied.

Kiernan studied the man who walked in the forefront of the newcomers. The carved walking stick he leaned on showed wear and the haunted look in his eyes confirmed he'd been too long on the road.

Mrs. Grayson clucked her tongue. “Look at the women, as thin as rails. I made bread yesterday.” She turned from the window.

“Wait.” Kiernan caught her arm. “I don’t care for the looks of the leader.”

“They're hungry,” she protested. “Ye can't expect the homeless to look like proper lords and ladies.”

“Bridget,” he released her, “forego the bread for just a moment.”

Kiernan exited through the kitchen door and headed toward the small crowd gathered around the strangers. A cold nose nuzzled each hand and he glanced down at two hounds that nudged for attention. He gave each an affectionate pat, then brushed them aside as he stopped before the newcomer’s leader.

“M’lord,” the man said.

Kiernan nodded an acknowledgment and surveyed the group before returning his attention to the man. “Where are you from?”

“Hay territory, m’lord.”

“Hay? Are things still so bad in the north you couldn't find work between there and here?”

The man looked surprised. “‘Tis powerful bad, m’lord. We found what work we could, but…”

“There are only seven of you?”

“Aye.” The man pointed to the man and woman at the rear of the company. “That is George and Sharon.” He went on to name the remaining three men and the other woman, ending with himself, “Alan Hay.”

“No children?” Kiernan asked.

Alan pointed to the second woman. “Rebecca’s bairn died two days into the journey.” He nodded toward Sharon. “She had a wee one, but not enough milk for the babe.

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