A Highland Folly Read Online Free Page A

worse and worse.
    Glancing at the manor house below, he almost turned and walked down the hill. He looked back at Lady Kinloch and saw that her eyes were closed, lines of pain creasing her forehead. The blood accenting those lines warned him that she needed attention right away.
    The cottage door was even lower than the path through the briars. A pain scored his back as he bent nearly double to enter. He had spent too many days moving rocks when his workers refused to work in fear of their lives. Shaming them by toiling alone until they came to work beside him allowed for progress on the road. At the same time, these aches reminded him how long he had spent in England doing nothing more strenuous than trying to pound sense into stubborn heads.
    Lucais grimaced as he stood, and his head struck a low rafter. Although sunshine slipped through the greenery clinging to the cottage, it was dim. The floor was surprisingly clean.
    â€œAre you all right?” Lady Kinloch asked.
    â€œMy sore head will give me more sympathy for yours.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    He hid his surprise at the words he had not guessed, from the stories he had heard, any Kinloch would say. He should know better than to heed poker-talk, but the lack of welcome here in this valley had led him to believe this gossip was true.
    â€œIt isn’t your fault, my lady,” he said with a rueful smile. “If you recall, I was shot at first.”
    â€œI didn’t realize there was a contest on this.”
    â€œThere isn’t, but I didn’t want you to feel worse than you already do.”
    â€œThat may not be possible.”
    Lucais did not answer as he noted how pale her skin was, an ashen shade that warned she was being honest. Had he been want-witted to bring her here instead of to Ardkinloch, where she could have been tended to in more genteel surroundings? As he set her down onto the pallet by the window, the puff of dust that he had expected did not rise to tickle his nose. He touched the pallet. It was chilled from the air along the hill, but it was not rotting. Someone had brought it here recently.
    â€œDoes someone live here?” he asked, glancing at the door with a scowl. Mayhap the person who had fired on them lived here. He picked up his gun.
    When she put her hand on his arm, the quiver of her fingertips sent an answering sensation through him. She had been right. He was out of his mind to react like this to Lady Kinloch. She was lovely and, he had to own, a most pleasant armful, but he had come to this valley to work, not mix up his life again with some woman who cared more for what his family was than the man he was.
    â€œThis is my cottage,” she said quietly.
    â€œYours?”
    â€œI come here when I need to hear in my head no voice but my own.” She gave him a weak smile. “I am constantly at the beck and call of those within Ardkinloch.”
    In spite of her words, he hastily loaded his gun. He would not be caught unprepared again. Setting it beside the pallet, he said, “My lady, I should examine the wound on your head.”
    â€œDo so with care.”
    â€œI shall.”
    Her fingers laced together over her coat and tightened when he checked her forehead. The cut was not deep, but he suspected she would have a large bruise on the morrow. He reached to loosen the collar of her coat.
    She batted his hands away. “What do you think you are doing?”
    â€œYour head needs to be bandaged to protect it. I thought your shirt—”
    â€œDisabuse yourself of the notion that I shall undress in front of you.”
    Egad! She was a most impossible woman. Mayhap she was just like the rest of her family.
    He drew off his coat, tossed it on the floor, and pulled his own shirt out of his breeches. When she gasped, he looked down to see an expanse of tanned belly visible between his waistband and shirt. This was no time for her feminine sensibilities. Despite that thought, he drew