Amanda Scott Read Online Free Page A

in here,” Macleod said. “We’ve nae need to speak privately, for I’ve made up my mind, and nae man will change it.”
    Hector Reaganach smiled. “With respect, sir, we’ll see about that. The sons of Gillean are not noted for patience or for turning away with the goal in sight.”
    “Aye, well, we Macleods ken our own minds, lad. Remember that.”
    Cristina sighed again, foreseeing a long and fractious meal.

Chapter
2
    T he storm outside picked up fury again as they moved to take places at the high table. Startled by a particularly loud crash of thunder, young Sorcha tripped. She caught herself but in the process banged a knee at one of the table’s corner legs.
    “Kiss your thumb, lass,” Macleod commanded. “’Twill ease the pain.”
    As she obeyed, Cristina saw Hector hide a smile and knew he thought that Macleod’s superstitions were foolish. Suppressing a jolt of annoyance, she glanced down the table to be sure her sisters were standing quietly, waiting for their father to speak the grace before meat.
    The storm grew even fiercer, with lightning flashes changing the light in the vaulted chamber from moment to moment as cracks and rolling, thunderous booms battered against the castle’s stone walls, making it doubtful that anyone heard more than an odd word here and there as Macleod spoke the words of the prayer.
    Finishing with a brusque “Amen,” he gestured for them all to sit.
    As they obeyed, Isobel shook back her flaxen plaits and said clearly to Hector Reaganach, “Why were you out in such dreadful weather, sir, if you agree with my father that it was dangerous?”
    Cristina, who had wondered the same thing but would never have put herself forward in such an unbecoming way, waited for an intervening roll of thunder to fade before she said, “Civilized people do not ask such questions of their guests, Isobel. Pray, attend to your supper and allow him to enjoy his in peace.”
    “But how am I to learn things if I may not ask questions?”
    “Dinna be impertinent, lassie,” Macleod said.
    Conscious of Hector Reaganach’s amused eye upon her, Cristina said, “We can discuss that later if you like, Isobel. Presently, you must tell Tam what you would like him to serve you from that platter he is holding.”
    With a sigh, Isobel obeyed.
    Shooting a stern look at her, Macleod said, “We dinna want to hear your voice again, nor any o’ the rest o’ ye either. Nobbut what the child put a good question to ye,” he added, shooting a sharp look at Hector. “Just listen to it roar out there. ’Twere a daft thing to be riding through such a din and deluge, so I trust ye had good reason for subjecting yourself to the experience.”
    “I did,” Hector said as Isobel shot a resentful look at Cristina.
    Cristina did not respond to the look, deciding that if her outspoken little sister had not yet learned that their father considered himself above deferring to the rules of civility, she soon would.
    The look of amusement in Hector’s eyes deepened when her gaze met his again, but instead of annoying her further, this time the look warmed her to her toes, and she felt an odd inclination to smile at him. She told herself she was merely pleased that he had retained his civility despite her father’s prying questions, but she knew she was attracted to the man and wished with all her heart that she were not. She also noted that although his gaze drifted once or twice in Mariota’s direction, he did not allow it to linger. Her sister’s frown indicated that she had also noted that fact and did not admire his good manners as much as Cristina did.
    Macleod was still gazing at him, clearly waiting for him to say more. When Hector turned instead to help himself from a dish of stewed mutton, Macleod said testily, “Well, what was your reason then for being out in yon storm?”
    Hector continued to help himself to the mutton, but Cristina saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. She did not know him well enough to