Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Author:Sue-Ellen Welfonder [Welfonder, Sue-Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-12-23T23:53:01.050000+00:00

10

Her cloak wrapped tightly about her, Linnet stood atop the battlements and tried hard to remain impervious to the chill bite in the damp and briny air. Far below, a group of poor burghers crossed the castle bridge on their way back to the village.

For three days she'd kept herself busy observing their comings and goings, used the distraction to chase the sneering visage of Duncan's first wife from her mind.

At first only a few came, barely a trickle, as if still wary of the dread laird of Eilean Creag. But, gradually, their numbers increased until at times a steady stream of them paraded back and forth across the narrow stone bridge.

All come to collect alms at the castle gates ... as was custom.

And her liege husband was still absent and could not see this small victory she'd won for him.

A strong gust of sea wind tore back her veil suddenly and she shook out her tresses, not caring how wet or wind-tossed she appeared.

The saints knew, her looks mattered scarce little. She could plait her hair with spun gold ribbons and dress in a gown fashioned of moonbeams, and Duncan would still find her unappealing.

And how could she blame him?

What man would desire her when he'd possessed a woman so beautiful a queen would be covetous of her?

Nay, her appearance was of no consequence. But she wished Duncan had seen the return of the needy to his castle door. Mayhap their show of trust would erase some of the darkness from his soul?

Truth to tell, though, she wasn't sure it would make a difference. Perchance the wounds beneath the grim mask he oft wore were already too deep.

Too raw.

Too solid, the wall he'd built to protect himself.

Yet he'd allowed her fleeting glimpses of the man within.

"Will you not come inside, milady? ‘Tis a fierce storm approaching," Lachlan entreated, coming up beside her. "My master will flay me alive if you fare ill, and he learns I could not dissuade you from bringing harm upon yourself."

"‘Tis good of you to be concerned, but my cloak keeps me fair dry and my hair matters naught." Linnet gave her husband's first squire a wan smile. "As yet, ‘tis only a light rain and does not bother me."

Lachlan glanced at the roiling black clouds racing ever closer across the loch. "I beseech you, lady, for my lord would indeed be mightily displeased, and I would not seek to foul his temper so soon upon his return."

And when is his temper not foul? Linnet swallowed the bitter retort dancing on the edge of her tongue, grateful the shrill cries of a passing flock of seabirds prevented her from taking out her frustration on the well-meaning squire.

Instead, she laid her hand gently on his sleeve and shook her head. "Nay, Lachlan, I fear you place too much importance upon my worth to your liege. We are alone and ‘tis old enough you are to ken why he married me. He will not care if the ague takes me, nor will he punish you if I dinna do as you bid.

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