Read Highlander's Reckoning (The Sinclair Brothers #3) for Free Online Page A

she would ever look, cinched into a fine
blue gown that brought out the color of her eyes, her hair combed and pulled
back around her face, and the circlet of gold Agnes had insisted she wear today
resting atop her head.
    Trying to soothe her nerves, she halted in front of
the dais and looked up at the new lord of Loch Doon. He already would have
towered over everyone gathering in the hall, what with his remarkable Highland
height, but with the added boost of the dais, he stood at least two feet over
her.
    “You look well today, my Lady Rona,” he said
smoothly—and loud enough for those gathered to hear. Then more quietly, he
added, “Though I suppose I should count myself lucky to see you at all, given
your disappearance yesterday.”
    She flushed at his barb and felt her anger rising.
    “And I see that you still wear the kilt of a
northern barbarian, my lord,” she said tartly. “I had assumed that those were
your traveling clothes, but I see that I should consider this your best
attire.”
    In truth, he wore a fresh shirt and kilt, the red of
the plaid bright and vibrant. She also noticed that his boots were mud-free. He
must have brought several clean versions of this outfit. At least he had an
appreciation for cleanliness, she thought grudgingly.
    “Why do you northerners wear such—” she waved at his
kilt, “—such strange garb anyway?”
    She waited for his frown at her sharp tongue, but
strangely, half of his mouth quirked up as if he were close to smiling. His
look made her feel suddenly unsure of herself.
    “Because it is far more comfortable than your
southern breeches, my lady,” he said wryly. “Lots of…fresh air moving about.”
    Her cheeks flared in a blush at his words and his
implication about what he wore under his kilt.
    Nothing ,
her mind whispered.
    Unbidden, her eyes darted down to his kilt, which
was level with her chest. She silently cursed herself again and ripped her eyes
back up to his face, which bore a knowing grin. Blessedly, he spoke again,
distracting her from her embarrassment.
    “Will you take an oath of fealty, as your father
has, Lady Rona?” he said, shifting into that clear, commanding voice.
    She flushed again and her stomach pinched. Why must
it happen so soon, and so publicly? But what else could she do? She couldn’t
simply refuse to pledge her loyalty to him and Robert the Bruce—that would set
a bad example for her people. As unconventional as she was when it came to
serving as lady of the keep, she couldn’t fail them by throwing them into
strife with their new lord.
    The hall was very silent as they waited for her
answer. Finally, she willed herself to speak.
    “Aye, I am ready.”
    She knelt on the hall floor, thankful that the
servants had put down fresh rushes for the Highlander’s arrival. She kept her
head lowered as she spoke the words, in effect renouncing her father’s
authority at Loch Doon and giving it to this stranger.
    As she said the last words of fealty in her loudest
voice, she sensed that her future husband had moved on the dais. She glanced
up, only to find him half crouched and leaning down toward her.
    Without waiting for her to comprehend what was
happening, he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her into the air.
She gave out a decidedly indelicate shriek of shock as he set her on the dais
next to him. Sounds of surprise and amusement rippled through the crowd at
their new lord’s display of strength.
    Rona barely noticed, though. Despite the fact that
her feet were solidly on the wooden dais, she still felt like she was floating,
with only Daniel’s strong hands to anchor her. All too soon, he let his hands
slip from her waist and turned back to the crowded hall.
    “Your former lord and lady have sworn their
allegiance to Robert the Bruce, and to me in his stead,” Daniel said to those
gathered. “And tomorrow, your lady will become my wife.”
    The crowd rumbled their approval, but his words hit
her like a splash of