Read The MacKinnon's Bride for Free Online

egg in her throat. In truth, her father hadn’t
cared enough even for that. She averted her gaze. “How dare you
speak of him so!” she mustered herself to say. “My father... he
would never...” She rubbed at her wrists, trying to ease the pain
that flowed into them.
    Naught could ease the ache in her heart.
    “ Well, then, mayhap he
should have...”
    Page glared at him.
    “ Let me see your
hands.”
    It was a command, no matter that it was
spoken so softly, and Page bristled. “I can see to them myself,
thank you!”
    He sighed. “As you wish.”
    “ Aye, ‘tis my
wish!”
    “ You’re a stubborn
fashious wench,” he apprised her.
    “ And you—” From the corner
of her eye, she saw that he lifted his hands toward her, and Page
flinched again. Aha! Now it began!
    He moved quickly and she was staggered to
find he merely placed a dry gown over her head. Her own gown, for
the material was familiar, soft and worn with age. The scent was
hers too.
    And it was toasty warm.
    He’d gone after it—but not only had he
retrieved it, he’d gone so far as to dry it before the fire.
    Shock filtered through her. Stunned, she
allowed him to draw the gown over her body, smooth it down, and
like a poppet, she thrust out her arms to place within the
sleeves.
    Her throat squeezed shut so that she could
not speak. No one had ever elicited so many emotions from her as
did this stranger. No one had ever looked after her so. No one had
ever worried whether she was comfortable, or hungry, or
lonely...
    Her heart wrenched, and once again, despair
threatened to strangle her.
    She couldn’t believe he was treating her
so... kindly.
    He was staring at her strangely... as though
he would read her thoughts. And then his expression shuttered and
his brows drew together, as he commanded, “Place your hands at your
back.”
    Page recanted her opinion of him at once and
gave him a glare he was like never to forget.
    He cocked his head, and entreated, “Dinna
make me force ye, lass...”
    He could, she realized, and she gritted her
teeth. Still, she couldn’t make herself obey quite so easily.
“You’re a wretch, you realize?”
    He chuckled, seeming impervious to her
wrath. The man wore his good humor like an accursed suit of
armor!
    “ So I’ve been told,” he
confessed without apology. “Now place your hands at your back so I
can bind them.”
    “ Why can you not leave
them free?” she protested, but obeyed nonetheless. Better to bide
her time and choose her battles wisely.
    It might help to know how many men she must
do battle with and she wondered if he would tell her. “What have
you to fear of me?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “You’ve
fifty men and more...”
    “ Do I?” he answered
noncommittally, peering up at her, his lips slightly
crooked.
    The wretch! He knew very well what she was
asking and wouldn’t even give her so meager a concession!
    “ As for your hands, wench,
I’m simply no’ foolhardy enough to allow ye to remain unfettered.
I’ll be needin’ my sleep tonight and dinna have in mind to play
nursemaid to a foolish lass who doesna seem to know enough to keep
her tongue stilled.”
    He reached behind her to bind her wrists
together behind the tree, this time not so tightly. “I’m sorry
Lagan was so harsh wi’ ye,” he said, testing the rope. Page cursed
him for his small gesture. It only served to discompose her all the
more.
    She decided to ignore the apology—and the
gesture, as well. “Surely you cannot expect me to sleep this
way!”
    “ As I’ve said, lass...” He
met her gaze. “Some things canna be helped.” He proceeded, then, to
adjust her gown so that her legs were covered, and Page bristled at
his manipulations. She didn’t wish to be appreciative—didn’t want
to be indebted to this man for any reason at all!
    Did he treat his son so patiently? So
thoughtfully? She couldn’t help but feel a prick of envy at the
notion.
    Then, too, his actions only served to