Rose In Scotland Read Online Free Page B

owned directly by your father, and when the land was put to auction ’Tis said he bid upon it. Alas, he did not bid high enough,” she added with asmirk, “and it went to some
outeral
from Yorkshire.”
    Hugh opened his mouth in reply, but whatever he might have said was lost when the door to the drawing room was flung open and a woman in an elegant yellow gown, a cape of bright scarlet wool laying crookedly on her shoulders, stood in the doorway. Emerald-green eyes, lavishly trimmed with thick black lashes were wide in a face that was alarmingly pale, and her lips trembled as she took a tentative step forward.
    “Hugh?” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. “Hugh, is it truly you?”
    Hugh gazed at the stunning creature his sister had become, love and anguish making his eyes burn and his throat ache. She was the very image of the mother he mourned still, and seeing her grown was a painful reminder of all the lost years in between.
“Mo
piuthar, mo cridhe,”
he said, repeating the endearments he had whispered to her in farewell a lifetime ago. “I have missed you, little sister.”
    “Hugh!” And then she was in his arms as she had been all those years ago, her arms tight about his neck as she held him close. “You’re home, you’re home,” she whispered, and he could feel her tears warm upon his skin. “I knew you would come back! I knew it.”
    Hugh couldn’t speak, his heart too full for words as he pressed a kiss to the top of Mairi’s head. This was the moment he had longed for, the moment he had lived for through all the years of danger and death. In his sister’s arms hewas finally home, and the enormity of his joy overwhelmed him.
    Behind him he heard the sound of the door closing, and knew Aunt Egidia had withdrawn to grant them privacy. He savored the feel of his sister a moment longer before gently moving away.
    “Let me have a look at you,” he said with a half-laugh, drawing back to feast his eyes upon her. “Aye,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “I was right, wasn’t I, to say you would be a beauty? You’re lovely as an angel, Mairi MacColme, although ’Tis more the devil I hear you resemble, with your temper and your tongue.”
    “Oh, fasch with you!” she exclaimed, dashing the tears from her eyes with an impatient hand. “I’m a MacColme, aren’t I, and the temper is mine to have. And if the Lord saw fit to grant me a tongue and the wit to use it, I refuse to be ashamed!”
    Her vehemence and the sparkle in her eyes had Hugh throwing back his head in laughter. “Ah, Mairi, you’ve been too long in Aunt Egidia’s company,” he said, smiling. “But tell me of Keir Mackinney; I hear he is courting you. Do you love him?”
    Mairi tossed back her head with pride. “Keir Mackinney is a troublesome brat with dirty hands and nae a thought in his head!” she said decisively. “And the last time he called, I told him did he but attempt to pinch me again, I would stick my dirk in his fat belly.”
    Hugh’s smile faded. “He dared to place hishands upon you?” he asked, a deadly note creeping into his deep voice.
    “Aye, but it’s dealt with and done, so there’s no cause for you to go off and murder him as you’re thinking,” she said. “Now, let me have a look at you,” she added quickly, before he could gainsay her, “so I can see for myself the man you have become.”
    He stood silent under the intense perusal of those deep-emerald eyes, feeling the gentle touch of her gaze as it moved over the planes and hollows of his face. The last fourteen years had been hard ones. He was a man now, with a man’s experiences stamped deep into his tanned flesh, and he only hoped she would not find his appearance too changed.
    “And what is this?” Mairi’s hand trembled as she traced a finger down the thin white scar slashed across Hugh’s left cheek. “A dueling scar, is it? Or was it done from an enemy’s sword in the heat of