Claire Delacroix Read Online Free Page A

illustrate. The book was destined to be part of a new hardback series and, with luck, she could be entrusted with further volumes.
    Morgan hoped to collect some unusual stories on site, but she didn’t think Edinburgh was the place to do that. “I don’t need to meet anyone here,” she said. “In fact, the smaller towns will be better for finding folktales.”
    Blake grinned once more. “See? No problem. Stirling in the morning, then.” He snapped his notebook closed and nodded with the conviction of a man who has just successfully settled a dispute.
    Justine exhaled in a way that told Morgan there was a problem and that Blake’s thinking on the issue would shortly be straightened out.
    The guide cleared his throat portentously. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, we shall return to the keep proper and descend into the vaults.” The older man, in full dress of the Sutherland Highlanders, turned a corner smartly and summoned his brood of sightseers with a flick of his wrist.
    “These vaults date from the sixteen century and are best remembered for their use as prisons for foreign prisoners of war in the late seventeen century. If you look carefully, you will see initials carved by the prisoners, mostly Frenchmen, in the very walls during their incarceration...”
    Blake clicked his teeth. “Nothing like a little gory detail,” he whispered in his terrible imitation of a Scottish accent. He winked and trotted behind the group, alert and attentive. Justine raised a slender eyebrow and singled out a man from the group with a glance.
    “ He keeps looking at you,” she whispered. “He’s alone and he’s cute. Why don’t you hang behind and see what happens?” Justine winked conspiratorially and sailed after Blake.
    Morgan didn’t even look at the man in question.
    Nor did she follow the tour.
    Now she understood who Justine expected her to meet! But Justine knew ! Morgan fumed silently, then pivoted and stalked to the outer wall of the keep. She wanted no part of anyone’s matchmaking schemes and Justine, of all people, should know why!
    Oh, now Morgan saw the signs she had ignored. How often had Justine “accidentally” invited one of Blake’s coworkers - always a male coworker - over while Morgan was there? How often had the sisters “bumped into” an old friend who just happened to be a single man while they shopped together? An old friend who just happened to be a single man.
    Morgan gritted her teeth. Trust Justine to have a scheme of her own! Trust Justine to think she knew best!
    There were moments when being the younger sister was a distinct disadvantage. Morgan glared out over the city, certain she could happily live out her life without having her older sister - or that woman’s husband - try to improve it.
    Morgan was never going to be dumb enough to get involved with a man again and that was that.
    A crisp wind made her jacket snap and tousled her hair, as she looked down on the city of Edinburgh arrayed in the dappled sunlight. The sounds of the city that rose to her ears were so muted that they might have been passing through a layer of cotton batting.
    She was alone, as she hadn’t been since coming to Scotland, and slowly her usual even temper returned. It was easy to forget Justine’s meddling and Blake’s organizing with a view like this. Morgan took a deep breath and studied the maze of streets below as the tension eased from her shoulders.
    This was the Scotland she had come to see.
    Edinburgh was unspeakably old and deliciously romantic. Mist still clung to the distant valleys, which Morgan could see but not name. Down below was a labyrinth of countless nooks and alleys, little passageways that led to secret courtyards and hidden doorways. Wrought-iron signs creaked in the wind and lace curtains fluttered from opened casement windows. Morgan eyed the way the fortress walls rose steeply from the rock face and deliberately let her imagination take flight.
    What secrets did these heavy old