Fairy Tale Read Free Page A

obey this rebellious female’s whimsical orders? “Explain this to me, Lachlan,” he said, shaking his head in bemusement. “Why on earth would you allow a little woman like this to mislead you?”
    Lachlan snagged Duncan’s elbow, covertly plucking away a pinfeather to draw the bigger man aside to warn him. “Her uncle is possessed of mystical powers, my lord. He saw a vision in the Samhain bonfire that told him Marsali should try to stop the next Sassenach who rides through the pass.”
    “A pity her uncle’s mystical powers couldn’t differentiate between a Scotsman and a Sassenach,” Duncan said dryly. “Where are her parents?”
    “Dead.”
    “And her living relatives—that is, is there a husband or relative responsible for the troublesome creature?”
    Lachlan frowned; everyone in the clan regarded Marsali with fond affection. “Marsali is responsible for herself, unless ye count old Colum, the uncle I just mentioned. He’s a wizard, ye ken,” he added slyly, in such a tone of voice that hinted Duncan should expect great cosmic repercussions from mistreating the wizard’s niece.
    “Colum, the wizard,” Duncan said sarcastically. In the shadows of long-forgotten memories stirred the image of a rather nasty, white-haired old fellow who used to prance around the moor talking to rocks and peering up the shepherdesses’ skirts while casting spells that never availed much.
    “Witchery runs in her family,” Lachlan said in an undertone. “ ’Tis said Marsali has the power but is hesitant to use it.”
    Marsali. Had he heard that name before? He had suppressed so many memories. Perhaps she was a newcomer to the village, the daughter of a rival Highlander who had broken with his own clan to join Clan MacElgin. Either way, whoever she was, she was a disgrace.
    “You’re afraid of the girl?” Duncan asked, suppressing a scornful smile.
    “Och, no.”
    Duncan glanced back appraisingly at Marsali, reminding himself he was back in the Highlands, where witches, fairies, and ghosts were daily fare. “Remove your hood,” he ordered her imperiously. “I would see your face when I address you.”
    “No,” she said.
    “No?” he repeated in disbelief, his voice climbing. “You dare outright defiance to your laird?”
    “You’re forcing me to defy you, my lord.”
    He studied her in grudging amusement, aware of the clansmen waiting to see how he would surmount the hurdle of her obstinacy . She was pushing him to the limit, this mysterious young woman, and he wasn’t going to have it. This was as good a time as any to prove his power.
    “Do not force me to make a scene, Marsali,” he said, low - voiced and leaning toward her. “I shall remove the hood myself if you refuse.”
    “I cannot remove the cloak, my lord.” She sounded perplexed, as if only an idiot would make such a request. “Furthermore, you’ll be very sorry if you lay a hand on me.”
    A muscle ticked in Duncan’s broad jaw. She had done it now—forced his hand, even if he had been inclined to show her mercy. He spared Lachlan a glance. “She is not disfigured, you say?”
    Lachlan quailed at the cold anger on his chieftain’s face. “Er, no, my lord, she isna, but if I may be permitted to warn ye—”
    “Permission denied,” Duncan said, frowning as he turned back to Marsali. “You’re making this so much worse for yourself, Marsali. Take off that blasted hood.”
    “The hell I will.” She raised her chin, adding with a resentful little sniff, “my lord.”
    Duncan proceeded to physically hoist her off her horse, realizing the time had come for a show of his power. She resisted for only a moment, stronger than he expected, but she was as light as a sack of feathers as he swung her down between his legs. Her fist flew up to clip his jaw. He caught it easily, an angry chuckle escaping him.
    “Put me down!” she cried, jabbing her elbow into his side.
    “With pleasure.”
    His face smug with satisfaction, he plunked her