Read Highland Scoundrel (Highland Brides) for Free Online Page A

home. Shona filled her lungs with the scents.
    "I have missed ye, Shona," Lord Halwart said, placing his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. "As I have said, twas not the same with ye gone."
    She smiled at him. The truth was she really liked men. After spending most of her life in her father's care, it would be difficult not to. But experience had taught her that few men were of Roderic's caliber. Still, she was willing to give this one the benefit of the doubt. "But Laird Halwart —"
    "Call me Gilmour, please."
    "But Gilmour, ye hardly ever saw me when I was here."
    "Far too little of ye," he said, pressing closer. For a moment she felt his gaze rest on her bosom.
    Hummm. "I hope you know I hold you in the highest regard. Indeed, when I heard you had traveled to court all alone, I was quite distraught."
    "I was hardly alone. I had a prestigious guard, and Liam met me along the way."
    "Ahh, Liam."
    If Shona remembered correctly, Liam had once taken Gilmour's sash to practice a magic act, but the trick had somehow gone awry and the sash had gone up in flames.
    "Do you think it wise to consort with the Irishman?"
    "Wise?" She stopped to glance at him.
    "I mean, Liam is...well...he's an entertainer."
    She laughed. "Aye, he is that," she said, and continued on. "And amongst my most faithful friends."
    "I didn't mean to offend," Gilmour hurried to say. "In fact..." He pulled her to a halt. "Tis the last thing I'd wish to do, for—"
    From the darkness, a woman giggled and a man chuckled.
    Gilmour glanced at them peevishly as they passed by. "Might we go somewhere more private?"
    he whispered.
    Shona remembered her father's words. But suddenly she glanced up, and there, only a few feet away, stood the eerie-eyed Dugald. Gone was his Italian garb. In its place was a black silk tunic tucked into a dark plaid. Twas traditional Highland garb, of course, and yet, the way he wore it made it seem different, regal somehow, with every pleat in place and a silver brooch fastened just so. He leaned back against the stone wall, his arms folded across his chest.
    "Good eventide," he said, his strange accent lilting, his gaze never wavering from her face.
    She nodded and turned quickly away. She was blushing, though she didn't know why. She'd surely done nothing wrong.
    Well, true, she shouldn't have removed her breeches. She shouldn't have been caught half naked.
    And mayhap she shouldn't have tossed a total stranger into the water. But that last one really wasn't her fault. After all, he'd provoked her.
    "Shona?" Halwart said, patting her arm. "Somewhere private?"
    "Aye," she murmured, dragging her gaze back to Halwart's. "Privacy would be much blessed."
    He turned her away, and she gladly went.
    "I know how you love to ride," Gilmour whispered, leaning close. "I've purchased a new saddle. It's in the stable. Twould be an honor if you would have a look at it."
    She wanted to say no. But that blasted Dugald was right behind her. "I would love to see your saddle," she murmured.
    The stables were lit by a pair of flaming sconces. Horses nickered as the door creaked open.
    Gilmour ushered her toward a room. It was dimly lit, illumined only by the sconces on the wall outside the stone chamber.
    "Here it is," said Gilmour, motioning to a saddle that rested atop a crossbar of wood. "I had it specially made in Italy."
    "Italy." Shona raised her brows. It was made of red leather. Very bright red leather adorned with tassels near the pommel. What, she wondered, could the purpose of tassels possibly be?
    "Notice the depth of the seat." He stroked it. "It cradles me like a lover's arms."
    Now, there was a strange picture—a lover precariously cradling his behind atop his steed. She knew from past experience that he was not a great rider. So the lover had better be quite strong. "It's very... red," she said.
    "Aye." He stepped to the side, apparently granting her a better view of the masterpiece. “Ye may sit in it if ye like."
    She wouldn't, but