Elaine Coffman - [Mackinnons 06] Read Online Free

black
heath and shaggy wood, high conies and stormy seas, and the ghostly spires of a
castle that rose, infinitely gray, infinitely silent, calling out to him.
    Glengarry Castle.
    Although he knew that something greater than himself drew
him there, he knew also that he was not meant to stay. At least, not yet.
    He purchased a sturdy horse and rode over the often
treacherous terrain, aware of nothing save his great desire to see his home
again. He stopped to sleep only when necessary, then was off again, drawn by a
great and mighty force sweeping him toward his destiny.
    It was early morning when he reached the base of a road and
looked up to see his first glimpse of Glengarry Castle in twenty years. He had
been only eight when he had last seen it, and he had a memory of the chilly
haunted glory that he felt when he gazed at it now.
    The castle sat on a promontory that seemed to separate the
village that lay down the mountain to one side and the fringe of forest that
lay on the other. And above it all rose the tall towers and turrets of the
castle.
    The sight of it gave him a thrill of awe and caution. He
felt as if he were unprotected, naked. There was something inviting and
familiar here, but there was also something treacherous; something dark and
dangerous that warned him away.
    He understood, then, just why he had come here first. He had
to know what he was fighting for, important to know what he was up against.
    After staring at it for quite a long time, he turned his
horse away and set his sights on Caithness and the properties that were already
his, content for now with the title, Earl of Caithness. He felt calm, assured,
for he knew in his heart that the time would come when he would be the Duke of
Glengarry as well.
    He had waited a long time for this. He could be patient for
a little longer.
    Having ridden a mile from Glengarry and the rugged coast, he
passed a field where a few of the village folk were working. He might have
taken no notice of this pastoral scene at all, had it not been for a head that
had reflected in the sunshine every rosy hue of wine-dark hair.
    Distracted by this, Fletcher reined in his horse and watched
a woman who stood out from the rest. He was not a man given to heart
palpitations over every woman he saw, yet he sensed she was unusual.
    He was not certain why he felt this way, but he intended to
find out.
    Watching her, his first impression was that he was
delirious, or that he was fantasizing, for there was something almost ethereal
about her. Her every motion was deft, yet fluid; purposeful, yet full of grace.
Each line of her body seemed to move and bend like the reeds that danced in the
wind at the edge of the loch.
    Her dress was faded and well worn, and even from this
distance he could tell that her face glowed with beauty and rustic health. Even
then, he might have ridden on past her had not something about the bucolic
scene called out to him, beckoning him closer.
    He felt himself drawn to her, not simply by his attraction
to her but by some stronger force. She must have felt no such thing, for she
took no notice of him. She was busy drawing water from a well. It was a hot
summer day and she had been raking a field sweet with hay.
    He urged his horse forward, riding toward her, the aroma of
peat and hay mixed with perspiration and the warmth of the workers. He paused
at the well just a short distance from her, and when she turned to look at him,
he immediately noticed her beautiful eyes. They were large, innocent and
violet, and they sparkled with happiness, as if she were enjoying the hard work
and relentless heat. He was struck by the way she looked at him with obvious
discomfort.
    Her dress was blue, in a simple style, with a white fichu,
crossed in front, as was the fashion of many Highland women. Behind the fichu,
he noticed, she was filled out nicely. He could not help thinking that beneath
that fichu her life throbbed quick and warm.
    She had lovely skin, the color and