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“You must go. We cannot do this.”
    “Aye. Ye are right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Good night, lass.”
    When she didn’t respond, he withdrew and turned to leave. He strode across the room and opened the door, checking to make sure the corridor was empty. He glanced over his shoulder, his last glimpse of her standing in front of the fire, staring at the flames. A beauty surrounded by an orange glow.

Chapter Four
    The next morning the seven men eating breakfast stood as Sybil entered the great hall. It was a bit disconcerting to always be the only woman at breakfast. She really should be more like the other ladies and have toast and tea brought to her room each morning, but she was too restless and too anxious to see what the day would bring to languish in bed.
    Liam drew a chair out for her. “Good morning, lass.”
    She nodded her thanks and reached for the teapot. Did he feel as uncomfortable about last night’s kiss as she did? After she had climbed into bed, she’d tossed and turned for a couple of hours, the episode with Warwick barely a wisp of a thought compared to what had followed. Laird MacBride knew how to kiss. Extremely well.
    “It appears Lord Warwick has been called away for a family emergency. He left early this morning.” Liam stared at her straight-faced as he imparted the news.
    Sybil hoped the flush she felt in her chest didn’t reach her face. “A shame. I hope everything is all right.”
    “I am sure whatever the emergency is, his being in London will benefit.”
    Only years of good breeding kept her from spewing out a mouthful of tea at Liam’s casual remark. Yet he still looked as innocent as a babe. Another reason not to trust the man. He hid his feelings well. Most likely years of seducing women into his bed had sharpened his subterfuge skills. That was something she needed to remember, especially in light of last night’s kiss.
    “Lady Sybil, why is it ye are the only lady who enjoys breakfast?” Duncan eyed her full plate, a slight smile on his face.
    She’d always had a good appetite and had never employed the ruse of eating like a bird when around gentlemen and then gorging oneself when alone. “I enjoy all of my meals. I’m afraid I have been cursed with an unladylike appetite.”
    “’Tis not unladylike, lass. ’Tis a blessing to have a strong constitution. Most Englishwomen do not,” Liam said.
    She glanced at him, her eyebrows raised. “And you are so familiar with Englishwomen?”
    Liam flushed, looking as though he wished to call back his words. Since her arrival at Dundas, several comments Liam had made indicated his idea of a typical Englishwoman was anything but complimentary. No doubt he thought them all weeping, swooning, fragile flowers. Truth be told, many of her acquaintances certainly fit that description, however, she and her sisters had always enjoyed an active, robust life.
    “Nay, lass. But aside from yerself, the ones I have met seem a bit on the willow side compared to Scottish lasses.”
    “Hopefully, ye don’t mean to include my betrothed in that statement, MacBride?” Duncan said.
    “Ach, ’tis a lot of trouble my tongue is getting me into today. Mayhap I’ll take a ride in the fresh air to settle my brain.” He stood and turned to Duncan “Nay, Lady Margaret is a charming Englishwoman.”
    He was a few feet from the door when he turned and strode back to the table, standing in front of Sybil. “My lady, would ye care to join me in a ride?”
    Surprised at not being addressed as “lass” which he’d done since he’d met her, she replied, “Yes, I would.” She wiped her mouth on a napkin and stood. “I won’t be long to change.”
    “Verra well, I will see to the horses.”
    Sybil hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber. Fortunately, Bessie was in her room when she arrived. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. Please unfasten me and pull out my breeches from my trunk.”
    “Breeches, my lady?” Bessie tsked , but