Secrets to Seducing a Scot by Michelle Marcos

Author:Michelle Marcos
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2011-08-01T22:00:00+00:00

That infernal woman!

Blood thundered in his ears as he stormed off to the solitude of the stables. The stable yard was silent except for the birds chirruping in the pear trees, but if his anger were a sound, it would shake the very hills.

Inside the stable, the pungent smell of animal assaulted his nose. He walked his horse, Old Man, out of the stall and tethered him in the stable yard.

By God, he had half a mind to quit this assignment, and let the devil take his own daughter back. He grabbed a boar’s-hair brush and dragged it through Old Man’s long grizzled mane.

He didn’t understand that exasperating creature Serena. They spent half the time in each other’s arms, and the other half at each other’s throats. Just when he thought she had come to really appreciate his devotion to her, she turned and embraced that … that … English fop!

The horse craned his neck in Malcolm’s direction and neighed in protest.

Malcolm stilled his brush. “Sorry, Old Man. Dinna mean to take it out on ye.”

A piece of straw crunched behind him. Instinctively, he turned in the direction of the sound, his hand ready to access any of the four weapons that he had at his disposal.

“Who did ye mean to take it oot on?”

It was Gabby Walker, the housekeeper.

Malcolm untensed. “Just bletherin’ to my horse.”

“Shouldna wonder why. He seems to have more sense than ye do.”

Malcolm’s eyebrows met as he looked down at the copper-headed woman. “Eh?”

Gabby advanced to the horse and caressed its neck. “The beastie forgives yer rough treatment because he knows ye mean him no harm. Ye would be wise to do as much with Miss Marsh.”

“How did ye—” Zoe must have told Gabby about Archer Weston’s arrival; little wonder, that. But how did she know—

Gabby put a hand on his arm. “Any woman who’s had a sweetheart can see the coddlin’ ye have for her. Biting and scratching is Scots folk’s wooing.”

Malcolm sighed in frustration as he leaned on Old Man. “I must’ve been mad to take up with a Sassenach wench.”

Gabby shrugged as she caressed the horse’s ears. “Thoroughbreds may be better than quarterhorses, but what’s the difference if ye’re going to ride them the same?”

Malcolm exhaled a confused breath. “There’s a limit to what I will take. As soon as that woman saw her rich London friend, she fell into his arms.”

“A wealthy man’s wooing need seldom be a long one.”

“It’s not his money she’ll be after. She’s got money of her own. It’s his … his … God knows what she sees in him!”

Gabby grunted in assent. “What does she see in ye, then?”

He turned the question over in his mind before his defenses shot up around him. “Whatever it was, she’ll see it no longer. I’m through trying to win her over.”

She cast him an amused look. “Is that what ye’ve been doing?” Gabby shook her head, the ginger curls bouncing against her cheek. “Ye’ve a strange idea of courtship, Mr. Slayter.

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