Read Emma Jensen - Entwined for Free Online Page B

all but filled her vision. "You've cut yourself, my lord."
    "I was careless with a glass earlier and encountered it while trying to give you some light. Now, take yourself—"
    But she already had his hand in hers. The sight of the barely protruding shard was distressing, not in itself, but in the fact that he had not removed it. She did not want to begin speculating on what sort of man would ignore such a wound.
    Shaken anew, she removed the glass and pressed her handkerchief where it had been. Then she fled.
    His voice stopped her in the doorway. "You did not answer me."
    "I did not—?"
    He gave an impatient snort. "Do you believe in tempting providence?"
    "Nay," she managed weakly, and tried again to leave.
    "I am not sure whether that is another lie." He shrugged. "No matter.
    Just remember, Miss MacLeod, no actions pass without consequence.
    Yours of tonight are no exception."
    In the dark, Isobel made two wrong turns and spent a full minute tugging at what turned out to be a wall medallion rather than a doorknob before she finally located the massive front portal. At last, as she made her shaky way across the fields, she was able to think on the marquess's final words. She decided they were far from comforting.
    Nathan was facing the gardens through the library window again, this time in morning's light. He inhaled deeply, knowing better than to think Isobel's scent had lingered through the hours. It had filled his senses, a faint aura of honey and rosemary, from the moment she had climbed through the window. And it had taunted him even after she left through the door.
    Again he smelled her, Isobel MacLeod, and knew she had returned.
    It had crossed his mind that she might. He was not certain what she hoped to accomplish. Perhaps she would try to dissuade him from throttling her father, not that he had any intention of doing something so physical.
    Jamie MacLeod was a weak man, and basically a stupid one. Nathan had been perfectly aware of that when he offered MacLeod the position. All Nathan had required was someone who could read, write, and manage basic sums. He had not wanted either a particularly clever secretary or a dedicated one.
    The Scot had seemed a good choice. Overeducated to the point that he thought in poetic meter, MacLeod was a literate fool. And he was desperately in need of funds. Being a gentleman on his native Skye had not put food into his children's mouths. Neither, apparently, had his stints in Edinburgh, Dumfries, or Manchester. From what Nathan had been able to ascertain, MacLeod's charm had made it simple enough for him to find three positions as a schoolmaster; his passion for Burns and brandy had made it impossible for him to keep any of them.
    Irresponsibility aside, the man had seemed genuinely devoted to his five children and willing to do whatever was necessary to see them set well in life. Yes, Nathan had expected MacLeod to blunder a bit in the job. And, in five months, there had been distinct blundering but nothing serious. What Nathan had not expected was larceny.
    It was a shame, really. Nathan had enjoyed the man's inept presence—
    the lilting brogue that deepened with drink, the unsolicited tales of his deceased fiery wife and lively daughters. The sons were not particularly interesting; Nathan detested hearing of yet another generation of young bucks growing into fools as great as the preceding. But the daughters...
    Maggie with her angel's face and gentle ways, Tessa the frighteningly clever imp. And Isobel, unmarried at twenty-five, always battling her own romantic heart with her granite head as she tried to keep the family above water.
    At first, Nathan had not wanted to hear these things about his secretary's family. Better, he had always believed, to keep such matters at a distance.
    But MacLeod prattled on whether Nathan listened or not, and before long, he had found himself wishing he could meet these vibrant characters and waiting for the next installment. He followed