Taming The Heiress by Susan King

Author:Susan King
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2016-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

"I know the hour is late," Dougal said. A fine rain sparkled on his bowler hat and broad shoulders as he stood in the doorway of Norrie's house. "I've come for my mail. I heard that Norrie brought it in from Tobermory late today."

Having answered his knock, Meg now stared at him, her heart racing. A strong gust of wind blew past him, and she strained to keep the door from bursting out of her hold. Outside, she noticed a blustery sky with huge iron-gray clouds hovering over the sea.

"Dougal, come in!" Norrie stood as he saw the visitor. "I fetched the mail in Tobermory but have not yet given it out. Let the poor man in out of the rain, Margaret. We'll have a gale before long, by the look of that black sky out there," he added.

She moved back in silent invitation. Removing his hat, Dougal stepped inside, glancing soberly at her.

Not certain what to say, she just held her hand out for his hat, which he gave to her.

"Sit you down, Mr. Stooar," Thora said, angling a bench beside the stool where Norrie now sat. "It is a dirty night."

"Aye, it is indeed," Dougal agreed, standing beside Meg. "Thank you, but I will not stay. I am sorry to disturb you, but I was out walking and saw the lamplight through the window. I thought to save Mr. MacNeill the trouble of delivering my mail."

"Sit you down," Mother Elga repeated, gesturing.

"I have work to do this evening, so I should be on my way soon," he answered. Meg, staying silent, was sure that he avoided looking at her.

Sensing his cool, shuttered mood, Meg wondered if he was still angry with her, or if he felt, as she did, a deep wrench of sadness. She had not seen him since the ceilidh, but now, standing so close to him in the dimly lit room, she felt the pull of him like a lode-stone. The knowledge that she had hurt him still twisted like a knife.

"Ach, Mr. Stooar, stay. It is not good for a body to work all the time," Thora said. "Sit you down and have a dram with Norrie. The children are to bed, and we are just sitting here in the nice quiet, the four of us. And now you."

"Thora will get you a dram," Norrie said, "and Margaret will fetch the mail. The sack is there in the cupboard, girl."

Dougal acquiesced with a polite murmur and sat on the bench beside the fire, thanking Thora for the cup of whisky that she poured and handed him. Elga remained in her favorite seat, a chair tucked in a warm corner by the hearth, and smiled at him.

"Mr. Stooar," she said, "do you like the rains?"

"Aye, at times," he said. "Not when heavy storms interfere with our work on the rock, but a soft rain like this one can be rather peaceful."

"Ah," Elga said, nodding. "Like your home in the sea?"

He glanced quickly at Meg, who blinked wide-eyed at him, while Mother Elga smiled blithely.

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