Fairy Tale Read Online Free Page B

wounds and unresolved accusations for anyone to view him as the hero he was to the rest of the world.
    To this day, Marsali had never cared to trace the truth of those accusations. Duncan MacElgin had played no more importance in her life than the man in the moon. He was no more real to her than the water horses that supposedly lived at the bottom of the loch.
    He was important, and real, albeit reluctantly, to her now.
    As if she did not have enough problems.
    Two years before, her father and her fiancé had been killed supporting Duncan’s father in a plot to bring James III to the throne. Duncan’s father had been killed too, but that hadn’t stopped Marsali’s two brothers from taking over where Kenneth MacElgin had left off, hatching their own half-cocked Jacobite revolt last winter. Her older brothers, Adam and Dougall had not returned at all, and young Gavin had come back a cripple.
    Marsali could not bear to lose another loved one in these petty plots that were only doomed to failure. She wanted the British soldiers to go away forever. She wanted her nieces and nephews to grow up planning weddings, not funerals. She ached for the quiet pattern of their lives to resume. There was nothing that meant more to her than family. Grief upon grief had destroyed her future.
    Could this man who fought like a devil and looked like an archangel be the answer? Her heart hammered wildly with anticipation at the thought.
    For months her uncle had been predicting the dramatic arrival of the man who would restore power and dignity to the clan. Of course, Uncle Colum’s predictions were typically more wrong than right, but Marsali had a powerful feeling about this one; she needed to believe it.
    Desperation compelled her to give Duncan MacElgin a chance. Hope enabled her to sacrifice a little pride and physical labor to save lives. The fact that he was gorgeous didn’t hurt either. That everyone had believed him dead only enhanced his dark mystique.
    “Here.” Duncan’s deep voice broke her train of thought; she glanced up just in time to catch the sodden ball of his clothing he hurled at her, the action anything but heroic. “Carry those back to the castle, Marsali, and launder them before nightfall. My belongings should arrive in another few days.”
    “I can’t possibly carry all this on my horse, my lord,” she complained, striving not to stagger under the dripping load.
    He chuckled, sun-lines deepening at the co rn ers of his eyes. Despite herself, Marsali had to admit that when he relaxed his guard, he looked a little boyish and far less threatening, an illusion that he proved could not be trusted by his next callously spoken words.
    “No, Marsali, you cannot carry that load on horseback. Which is why I intend to ride your mare while Lachlan tries to find my horse on the moor. He was frightened away by the boulders you rolled into our path.”
    “Speaking of boulders, these things weigh as much as a standing stone, my lord.”
    Duncan marched past her, his face unconcerned. “You’ll probably discover you have many hidden strengths as well as weaknesses under my guardianship, Marsali.” He almost added, out of habit, that he’d make a soldier of her yet, but he caught himself in time.
    She struggled to keep pace with his enormous strides, glaring at her grinning clansmen over the top of her wet bundle. Sniveling traitors who didn’t appreciate the noble sacrifice she was making for their sakes. “Excuse me, my lord, did you say ‘guardianship’?”
    “Like it or not—and I don’t—I am your chieftain, responsible for your behavior. Your actions reflect upon my leadership.” He vaulted onto her horse, smiling down into her small disgruntled face as if he savored the challenge of turning her into a drudge. “You’d better move, lass. It’s a long walk to the castle, and you’ve a full day’s work ahead.”
    “Nobody has ever ordered me around before,” Marsali said slowly, the shining image she had