Amanda Scott Read Online Free Page A

gentleman she had thought was the smaller. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
    At Finlaggan and elsewhere in the Isles, most men wore the skins, saffron-colored shirts, and blanketlike garments that barelegged Highlanders belted around themselves, but many of the galley-owning Islesmen, who treated the seas as their highroads, wore richer, more courtly garments that they had seen and purchased in their travels.
    Thanks to her older brothers’ interest in similar garments, she recognized his short tunic as being of French design, and recalled her mother’s oft-expressed dislike of the blatant display of male backsides and sexual organs encased in thin hosiery that the fashion for such short tunics so often provided. Resisting temptation to let her gaze drift downward, she said, “Pray, sir, stand aside. Surely you know that you must leave this door open.”
    “His grace, the Lord of the Isles, is about to try a man for his life, lass. Open or not, this hall is no place for a maiden today, however beautiful she may be.”
    His voice was low-pitched but touched with humor.
    Fighting to control her irritation, she looked up to tell the impertinent, self-appointed doorkeeper how irrelevant his opinion was to her, but she swallowed the words when her indignant gaze met his twinkling blue eyes.
    The sensations that held her in thrall then she would later find difficult to recall clearly, let alone to describe. Warmth swept through her, doubtless stirred by that impudent twinkle, but the warmth included a sense of surprise. She would try to persuade herself that the latter was due only to having never before seen eyes of so clear and pure a blue, like calm water in the Firth of Lorn when the tide was on the turn and the sun high and shining from a clear sky. She felt a strange tingling, too, in places where she had never felt anything similar before.
    “Let me pass,” she said, but her mouth was suddenly dry and the words emerged in a harsh whisper.
    He shook his head.
    Dampening her dry lips, she tried to swallow, to look away from that spellbinding gaze, but she seemed to have lost control over such actions.
    “What the devil’s amiss here?”
    The obstacle in front of her turned, shifting aside slightly as he did, but before Mairi could sufficiently gather her senses to take advantage of the opening and slip past him into the hall, the second, even larger man blocked the gap and stared at her in astonishment.
    “By heaven,” he said impatiently to the first, “I’ll remember this when you next take me to task for lingering over a pair of bonnie eyes. Send her away, Lachlan, and close this door. His grace is glowering at us, and I warrant he’ll not begin until it is shut.”
    Irritation returned. Mairi stiffened and squared her shoulders, saying sharply, “This door must remain open. Our law requires it.”
    “What do girls know about our laws?” the second man demanded.
    “Perhaps nothing,” the first said equably, adding before Mairi could contradict him, “Nonetheless, I believe she is right. This being the first time we’ve attended such a proceeding indoors, I’d forgotten that the usual openness is due to law and not merely to circumstance. Thank you, mistress, for the reminder. We would not want to displease his grace.”
    “If you think my father is displeased now, sir,” she said, “just wait until he hears that the pair of you tried to keep me from entering. It is as much my right to do so as it is yours.”
    Both men’s eyes widened in astonishment, revealing those of the second to be nearly as pure a blue as those of the first.
    In unison, they exclaimed, “Your father!”
    “Aye, for I am Mairi of Isla. Now, stand aside and let me pass.”
    Instead of being properly abashed, the one called Lachlan caught her gaze again and held it, the twinkle in his eyes deepening as he continued to block her way. This time, however, the only emotion the twinkle inspired was fury.
    Her hand