The Scot's Bride (Highland Heirs Book 2) by Paula Quinn

Author:Paula Quinn [Quinn, Paula]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2017-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Patrick reached Colmonell early the next day.

He rode toward the line of trees that separated the sparse woods from the western edge of the Fergussons’ large farmstead.

What if they no longer grew butterbur? His mother hadn’t needed it in years. No, it had to be here. Was his memory correct and this was the area where the plant had previously grown? He knew what butterbur looked like. Large white leaves, sometimes three feet in diameter, heart-shaped with scalloped edges topping tall fleshy stalks. They shouldn’t be too difficult to find.

His thoughts brought him back, as they had all morning, to last night and Charlie’s kiss. Patrick hadn’t wanted to let her go. Her lips, so soft and sweetly yielding drove him daft. He wanted her. He wanted to bring her home or stay here with her—he didn’t care which.

But the cold dawn brought with it misgivings. Did he want to promise her things he wasn’t sure he could give her? Did he want to change his life so drastically? Did he want a wife? Being a husband was the highest of duties, and, as he’d learned throughout his life from his kin, the hardest.

But hell, he was ready for a hard fight. He hadn’t had one in so damn long.

But did she want something else? Someone else?

Did she still love whichever of his cousins had given her her sling? Who had it been? And what kind of fool was he to have let her go? Patrick could ride to Tarrick Hall and find out. But he’d promised Charlie he’d make haste after Elsie awoke this morn with labored breathing. He also didn’t know how he’d tell his uncles, whom he hadn’t seen in a decade—that he was falling for the daughter of their enemy. The same lass one of their sons had fallen for. Hell, he could barely admit it to himself. And what if his cousin who had taught her how to use a sling still loved Charlie and was staying away to quell the feud?

Was it heroic or cowardly? Would Patrick have to fight him?

“Why would I?” he asked himself, moving over a worn path toward clusters of tall stemmed plants where he believed the butterbur to be.

What else would Patrick do about permanently losing her? Had he truly ever pondered a life of needing her—and not being able to have her because she belonged to his cousin? He pondered it now. It wouldn’t be pleasant, that was for damn sure. How could he put a halt to the effects her smile, her spirit had over him?

Patrick spotted the leaves and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasted no time gathering what he needed and packing it up. He was surprised none of his uncles were out patrolling the farmland—and even more surprised that he hadn’t been struck in the head with a stone from someone’s sling.

How were his uncles? What had happened between them and the Cunninghams that caused Duff to hate them? He’d make it a point to discover why when he returned to Pinwherry.

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