McClairen's Isle: The Passionate One by Connie Brockway

Author:Connie Brockway
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: General, Romance, Historical, Large Type Books, Fiction, Highlands (Scotland)
ISBN: 9780440226291
Publisher: Dell
Published: 1999-06-08T00:00:00+00:00

The sharp line of moonlight cresting the mountain. Muted voices whispering from the hiding hole in the clansman’s croft. The staccato of hoofbeats. Scarlet coats made black by the night, suddenly illumined by torch fire. Discovery. Panic. Shouts...

No!

Her head snapped upright, her stomach roiling, the taste of bile thick on her tongue. Dizzy and disoriented she stared about her.

They were rounding a curve. Ahead, an inn squatted beside a crossroads. Bright light poured from small windows, and a curl of smoke stood pale against the indigo sky. Ash halted, waiting until she was alongside him to speak.

“We’ll stop there for the night,” he said. “You won’t say anything or do anything to cause a... situation.”

“Why won’t I?” she muttered, head aching dully.

“Because it wouldn’t do you any good,” he replied. “I have papers naming me your guardian in my father’s stead. No commoner is going to challenge the Earl of Carr’s will or, by extension, mine. And if you should bedevil some half-drunk farmer into thinking himself Galahad to your damsel in distress, remember, his wounds would be your doing.”

“No. Please.”

No, please! Come out! The smoke...

“You wouldn’t want more guilt on your tender conscience, would you, Rhiannon?”

She shivered.

“I would think that particular cup is full.”

“Bastard.”

“Unfortunately quite legitimate.” He yanked on the lead rope.

At the inn, he dismounted and came to her side, lifting his arms. Weakly, she slapped his hands away. He stepped back and watched her pull her feet free of the stirrups and slide to the ground. Her legs, numbed from so long in the saddle, buckled.

He reached her as she collapsed, lifting her. “Don’t be a fool. Hurting yourself isn’t going to make me return you to Fair Badden.”

“What will?” she asked weakly.

“Nothing.” He clipped out a command to care for their horses to the tired boy who materialized beside them. Then he kicked open the inn’s door and ducked beneath the low lintel.

A gristle-cheeked innkeeper blinked at their sudden appearance.

“I need a room,” Ash said. “And the lady needs a basin of fresh water, towels. We’ll eat now, while you prepare it.”

Rhiannon squinted around the room, praying she would recognize someone of authority, someone who could stop this madman. There was no one. A pair of rough-looking travelers eyed her interestedly until their gazes fell on Ash.

“See them scars on his wrists? Manacles,” she heard one mutter to the other. “Seen ’em before. Tattoo of the prisons.”

Manacles? Prison?

“Now,” Ash barked at the innkeeper.

“Yes, sir!” The man pattered off behind a door.

With a predatory smile at the two travelers, Ash moved to the fire. He set her down on a stool and dragged a small table in front of her, settling himself on a chair across from her, effectively penning her into the corner.

Heedless of him, she leaned her head against the wall. Her eyelids drifted shut until a rich, earthy aroma filled her nostrils. She opened her eyes. Two steaming bowls sat on the table beside a half loaf of dark bread and a bottle of wine.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.