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you are at liberty to command me about.”
    A look came over Mr. Duncan that suggested he did indeed have liberty, and as if to prove it, he suddenly swept her up in his arm, took three steps back, and deposited her at the wagon. “ Stay, ” he ordered her, and walked on.
    “What? Who do you think you are?” Fiona called after him. “My brother will hear of this!”
    But Mr. Duncan was striding along, ignoring her.
    “Inquire as to supper!” she added hastily.
    She thought about following him, but thought the better of it, and stood next to the wagon, wincing a little against the hunger pangs she was suffering. Dusk was turning into a clear night; it would be quite cold. She hoped the inn was properly heated.
    Several minutes later, Mr. Duncan appeared again, striding toward her.
    “Ah! There you are! Did you order a supper?”
    “They’ve no lodging,” he said.
    Fiona blinked. Then looked at the wagon. “Oh no. Oh no , you canna expect me to stay in that all night, sir! I’ll catch my death, I will! I could perish! I could very well perish in that wagon!”
    He stepped around her, slid the saddlebag off his shoulder, and tossed it into the dark interior.
    “You may be quite accustomed to sleeping in the elements, but I am no’! I require a bed! And a bit of food!” she exclaimed, pressing her palms to her belly. “I grant you that your laird is something of a beast, but he would naugh’ stand for this, I am really fairly certain!”
    That seemed to give the man pause. He stilled and looked down at her so fiercely that Fiona recoiled a bit. “What?”
    “Wait here,” he said, and turned on his heel.
    “Wait here?” she exclaimed, hugging herself tightly as he strode up the road. “Where are you going?”
    He did not respond, naturally, and left Fiona to stand at the back of the wagon as a curious couple walked by her, eyeing her suspiciously.
    “For the love of Scotland,” she muttered, and peered up the road.
    The Buchanan man had disappeared from sight.

Chapter Four

    T he innkeeper had pointed Duncan to Mrs. Dillingham, a widow who lived down the road in a whitewashed cottage. The innkeeper said she would take the occasional family or young couple in need of lodging when the inn was full.
    Mrs. Dillingham looked rather alarmed to see Duncan at the door, but he hastily pardoned the intrusion and explained he was a Buchanan man, ferrying Lady Fiona Haines, the Earl of Lambourne’s sister, to Blackwood.
    The moment the word lady left his lips, Mrs. Dillingham’s doughy face lit with pleasure. “A lady !” she exclaimed happily in a thick Scots accent. “I’ve naugh’ had the pleasure of keeping a lady!” Her eyes were shining as Duncan imagined they would shine on a child or a favored pet.
    “If you would be so kind, I will compensate you well for it.”
    “I’d be delighted ! Oh, but me abode is too humble for the likes of a lady, is it no’?”
    “She would be honored.” He hoped to high heaven she would be honored. She certainly wasn’t honored by wagons.“Might you have a bit of supper for her?” he asked, reaching for his coin purse.
    “Supper! Oh, good sir, I’ve no doubt a lady is accustomed to finer fare—”
    “She would be grateful for whatever you might have. She’s no’ eaten this day.”
    “No’ eaten! Poor thing! I’ve a stew in the kettle, if that will suit.”
    “Perfectly,” he said, and holding the coin purse in the claw of his left hand, he fished three coins from the bag and handed them to Mrs. Dillingham.
    “ Three pounds?” she exclaimed, looking wide-eyed at the money. “Oh, she must be a fine lady indeed !”
    “Mind that you take good care of her,” he said. “Look after her properly, for she’s had a rough go today. I’ll fetch her.”
    He left Mrs. Dillingham scurrying about to tidy her cottage.
    Lady Fiona was precisely where he’d left her, at the back of the wagon, stomping her feet for warmth. When she saw him, she threw her arms