Ghosts of Culloden Moor by L. L. Muir

Author:L. L. Muir [Muir, L. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

As she neared the castle, Sophie was still so mad she barely noticed the smell of raw sewage until she was back to the spot where she’d gotten off her horse. While they’d been off playing gladiator and lady of the castle, someone had been working overtime. Thank goodness.

Peg was waiting for her at the top of the steps and, after a glance at Sophie’s face, bit her tongue and moved aside.

Sophie marched into the great hall, found a bench against a wall, and claimed it with her butt. Thankfully, her skirts flared out to either side and would keep anyone from sitting too close.

Maybe I’ll sit here for the rest of the weekend.

Bram strolled into the room and casually descended the three large steps like lord of the bloody castle.

Yep. Just another actor. Not a paying guest after all. She couldn’t believe she’d seen him as anything else.

Though he’d never looked her way, he strolled in her direction, paused in front of her, and held out his hand.

She folded her arms and tipped her head to the side.

Childish? You betcha.

Harris and Peg retreated to the other side of the room. A couple of men stood at each end of her bench, evidently waiting for her to get off it so they could move it next to one of the long tables. They glanced at Bram and hurried away.

Any other woman would have taken one look at Laird Ogilvy—with his muscular leg pressed against the side of his kilt and his shirt pulled tight against a Leonidas chest—and would have happily put her hand in his, no matter why he’d offered it. But she was done playing the seventeenth century lady.

“You know where you can put that hand,” she said sweetly.

He laughed in surprise, then cleared his throat. “Aye, I do. As yer laird and master, wife, I can put it anywhere I bloody please. I can apply it to yer backside if the mood takes me. Or I can…” His gaze raked down her gown and back up again.

She jumped to her feet to keep him from completing that sentence. “Just try it, buddy, and you’ll pull back a stump.”

“I’ll do more than try, lass.” He suddenly bent over and came at her with his shoulder. She tried to back away, but the bench stopped her. He scooped her up, tossed her over that shoulder, and carried her across the room with one hand against her butt cheek to hold her steady. She beat her fists against his firm rear end while the wood floor passed above her head. She might have been more successful at stopping him if she pinched or bit him, but she just couldn’t do it.

All those self-defense classes, wasted.

Bram jolted her as he climbed onto the dais. After a few more steps, he bounced her off his shoulder and bent forward, pulling her legs against him as he allowed her to come upright again. And just as she started clutching at him, to catch herself, her butt hit the seat of a chair.

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