Claimed by the Laird

Author:Nicola Cornick [Cornick, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency, Historical romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781460336670
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-07-28T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

WHEN THE KNOCK came at the door of his cottage the following evening, Lucas was in no mood for company. It had been a long, hard, hot day and he had spent it hauling stone for the grotto and digging out the rest of the watercourse. He ached in muscles he could swear he did not possess and all he wanted was a hot bath and to sleep. The former was impossible—his cottage possessed nothing more luxurious than a stone trough fed with cold water from the pump outside—and the latter was unlikely since his mattress was old and lumpy and the blankets coarse.

The door had opened without his invitation. A woman stood there, cloaked, her hood up. For a moment Lucas’s heart leaped at the thought it might be Christina. He had not seen her since the previous night. She had thanked him politely for his services when they had returned to Kilmory Castle, but he had sensed a chill in her, a sense of withdrawal that he was at a loss to explain. He was not sure why he needed to explain it, why it disturbed him, but it did.

The figure stepped into the room and Lucas’s heart steadied. This woman was too short and too slight to be Christina. Besides, Christina would not visit him here. She was far too proper.

“I brought you food.” Alice Parmenter was placing a cloth-covered wicker basket on the wooden table. “You missed supper.”

Lucas gave a grunt of acknowledgment. He tried hard to ensure that he took his meals in the servants’ hall since his fellow servants were an indispensable source of information but on this occasion he was bone weary.

Alice had come into the cottage now and was looking around her with a critical eye. Lucas supposed that his housekeeping was not up to her high standards. He spent very little time inside. “Why do men never take care of themselves?” Alice bustled over to the chair, straightening the cushions, peering inquisitively through the darkened doorway into his bedroom beyond.

Lucas shrugged. “Because there’s no need.” He swung his booted feet down off the table and reached for the basket. There was cheese and bread rolls and a meat pie. His mouth watered.

“Thank you,” he said indistinctly, through a mouthful of Scottish cheddar.

She laughed and walked back toward him. “There are other ways in which to thank me, Mr. Ross,” she said.

Their eyes met. Lucas felt his stomach churn. There was such avid heat in her gaze as it slid over him, so different from Christina MacMorlan’s cool sweetness.

“You flatter me,” he said.

“I don’t think so.” She was coming toward him, sliding the cloak from her shoulders as she did so. He could feel the heat of her body now, feral and eager. This was awkward; he could not afford to alienate her. She could make life at Kilmory very difficult for him.

“I don’t want to trespass,” he said.

Alice’s gaze widened on him. “You know about me and the duke?” she said.

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