One Hot Scot Read Online Free Page B

do with her? The easiest, safest thing for him and his sisters would be to return Julia Prentiss to Bellamy. A man with sisters would have to be damned to ever do such a thing, though. Just the idea of someone dragging off one of his bonny girls made him ill and angry. No, not angry. Blood-boilingly furious, more like. And surprising or not, it was an easy thing to muster the same emotion when he imagined this lass in Bellamy’s grasp.
    The next best option would be for him to put her up on another horse and escort her back to Aberdeen immediately. That, though, would leave Lenox House vulnerable should Bellamy come looking for her—or for a substitute bride, if he was frustrated enough. Lord Glengask would have been a help, if he hadn’t been in London chasing after his younger sister. Bear MacLawry was a possibility, but Glengask’s youngest brother was as likely to start a fight with Bellamy as to resolve the situation.
    No, having her send her letter asking for her kin to come and fetch her and keeping her hidden in the meantime was the only solution that made any sense. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was pretty as summer and brave to boot. It had nothing to with the fact that she was more than likely ruined, and that he wasn’t … content with the idea of sending so unexpected a female away. It was, quite simply, the correct thing to do.
    “I believe it’s your move, Duncan,” she said, shaking him out of his thoughts.
    That it was. He shifted another pawn, making a wall, and for a time they sat and played and talked about nothing more pressing than the weather and Scottish weddings. She could likely use the time to gather her own thoughts, and the devil knew he had some things to consider, as well. She was a piss-poor player, but he didn’t much mind that. When he played against Keavy, he made certain she won often enough to keep her from getting discouraged.
    “Ye said ye were here with yer mother and sister,” he finally asked. “What of yer father?”
    “He stayed in London for the Season. He’s … a viscount. Lord Prentiss. So he has to attend Parliament. And he said that while Scotland might be my idea of a gift, he would prefer a quiet household for a few weeks.” She looked from the chessboard to him. “What of your parents? You said you had a grandmother.”
    “Aye. Grandmama Maevis. She’s my father’s mother. Both my parents died aboot seven years ago, when the fever came through one winter.”
    “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry.”
    Duncan shrugged, watching her fingers fiddle with a rook. “They went together, as they would have wished it. And I was already two-and-twenty, so the lasses had someone to look after ’em.” At the time he hadn’t been nearly as circumspect, but she didn’t need to know that. When she moved a pawn to block his knight, he countered with a bishop. “How old is yer sister?”
    “Elizabeth? She’s sixteen. That’s the one thing I’m grateful for—that Bellamy snatched me rather than her. She’ll still be able to have her debut and dance and flirt, as any young lady wants to do.”
    “But none of that’s left for ye? Ye’re what, nineteen? Hardly on the shelf, lass.”
    “I’m one-and-twenty, and I’ve been missing for five days. And I was last seen in the unchaperoned company of an unmarried man. There was also the elopement letter he left on my behalf. We cannot forget that.” Her fingers curled around the rook as if she wanted to choke the life out of it.
    He could hardly blame her for that. “But if ye yell to the world that ye were taken against yer will, willnae that make a difference?”
    Julia grimaced, releasing the rook in favor of a knight. “Some, perhaps. I’m still marriageable because of my dowry. But I’ll be looked at askance and whispered about, and other ladies won’t invite me over for tea.” A tear ran down one cheek, and she brushed it away. “I can manage the gossip, as long as it doesn’t hurt