Pride of the Clan Read Online Free Page B

person of the opposite sex, with the exception of her brothers, of course. In her experience, men were easier to relate to than women. Mayhap it was the reason for the alchemy that drew her to him.
    She craned her neck to look way up to the top of the towers. Each tower had four narrow windows spaced at regular intervals. “Judging by the windows it must be four stories high.”
    “Aye. We climb up a spiral staircase,” he explained, making a circular motion in the air with his hand.
    Margaret’s head swam as her eyes followed the tip of his finger.
    A curtain wall, in the center of which was an arched gateway, connected the towers. “Impressive,” she said. “Although I wouldna like to be up there at the top. I’m afraid of heights. Looking up has made me dizzy.”
    She had taken pleasure in riding with him on his magnificent horse, but now his demeanor changed. “Unfortunately, where ye stay will be up to Tannoch,” he said stiffly.
    ~~~
    If it was Rheade’s decision to make, he’d whisk Margaret off to his own chamber, where they’d strip off their clothing and snuggle naked under the furs. He’d never felt such raw need of a woman. What had brought about this powerful attraction?
    “Mayhap in Mama’s dressing room,” Logan suggested, jolting him back to the present as they rode beneath the archway into the courtyard where Fion stood ready to greet them at the door of the keep.
    It never failed to amaze how the ancient servant sensed exactly when his masters were returning home. They hadn’t been expected back for days.
    But Logan’s remark had unsettled him. Tannoch would not approve of the traitor’s betrothed sleeping in their mother’s favorite chamber.
    He dismounted and reached up to assist Margaret. His clumsy hands almost spanned her tiny waist. Her face flushed as he lifted her down from Dubh, her dainty fingers gripping his shoulders. He wanted to gather her to his body, protect her from what lay ahead, but he kept her at arms’ length and set her on booted feet.  
    “Yer drivers can bed down in the barn. Fion will send a man to show the way,” he said.
    Fion bowed and shouted an order to someone inside.
    “And my uncle and aunt?” she asked as Sir David dismounted and helped his wife from the wagon.
    He hated the nervousness in her voice. These people of good family had a right to expect the best hospitality the Highlands had to offer, but he feared Tannoch might consign them to the cells. The prospect of Margaret being in the filthy, rat infested place made him sick.
    He offered his arm and escorted her into the Great Hall. Her relatives followed, Lady Ogilvie still clutching the blankets, her eyes darting everywhere.
    He bade them be seated near the hearth, thankful someone had banked a fire. Fion no doubt. Again he marveled at the man’s uncanny foresight.
    Margaret sat in his mother’s favorite chair. She looked at home there, holding her palms to the warmth of the glowing peat.
    “That’s my place.”
    Rheade cursed under his breath. He had forgotten Glenna, Tannoch’s wife, Mistress of Dunalastair.
    God help us.
    Marriage to Tannoch hadn’t brought out the best in Glenna, but then he was a hard man to please. No one who’d known her when she first came to Dunalastair as a bride would recognize her now. The charming raven-haired beauty had become a stooped shrew with hair of uncertain color.
    Responsibility for the disastrous marriage lay on Glenna’s shoulders according to many because she had failed to conceive. Tannoch beat her, and not always in the privacy of their chamber. It was not suitable behavior for a chieftain, but none voiced the opinion aloud.
    Margaret was out of the chair in the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry,” she said, glancing nervously at Rheade.  
    He wanted to strangle Glenna, but the woman had a difficult life. “May I introduce Lady Margaret Ogilvie of Oban, her uncle Sir David, and her aunt, Lady—”
    “—Edythe,” Margaret supplied the