Highland Wolf Read Free

look she wondered why it did not make her afraid. A moment later, Annora realized that the intensity held no hint of a threat or dislike. There was a hunger there, a need and a grieving, and she wondered if he had lost a child. Again she felt a need to soothe him, and that need began to make her verynervous.
    She looked at the goblet he held in his elegant long-fingered hands and gasped softly. “Is that the one ye wish to sell to the laird?” she asked.
    “Aye,” the man replied. “I am Rolf, Rolf Larousse Lavengeance.”
    Annora blinked and had to bite her lip not to say anything. It was a very strange name. It roughly translated to wolf, redhead, and vengeance. It was also strange for a poor workingman to have such an elaborate name. There had to be a story behind it and her curiosity stirred, but she beat it down. It was not her place to question the man about his name. As a bastard, she was also all too aware of the hurt and shame that could come from such questioning, and she would never inflict that upon anyone else.
    “It is verra beautiful, Master Lavengeance,” she said and held her hand out. “Might I have a look?”
    “Aye.”
    As she took the goblet into her hands, she decided the man had been in Scotland long enough to lose much of his French accent and pick up a word or two of their language. If Donnell hired the man to do some work at the keep, that would make life a great deal easier. Donnell had absolutely no knowledge of French and could easily become enraged by a worker who had difficulty understanding what he said. And, looking at the beautiful carvings of a hunt on the goblet, she suspected Donnell would be very eager to have the man come and work at Dunncraig Keep. The thought that she might have to see a lot of the man in order to translate orders for him made her feel a little too eager, and Annora felt a sudden need to get away from this man.
    “I believe this will please my cousin weel,” she said. “Your work is beautiful, Master Lavengeance. The stag on this goblet looks so real one almost expects to see him toss his proud head.”
    James just nodded and named his price. The woman named Annora did not even blink, but paid it and hurried Meggie out of the shop. Moving quickly to look out the door, James watched her lead his child back to the keep, two of Donnell’s men in step a few yards behind them. He felt a hand rub his arm and looked to find Ida standing at his side, her blue eyes full of sympathy.
    “Annora loves the wee lass,” Ida said.
    “Does she? Or is she but a good nursemaid?” James asked.
    “Oh, aye, she loves the lass. ’Tis Lady Margaret who holds Mistress Annora at Dunncraig and naught else. The child has been loved and weel cared for whilst ye have been gone, Laird.”
    James nodded but he was not sure he fully believed that. Meggie had looked healthy and happy but she had said nothing. There was also a solemnity to the child that had not been there before. Meggie had been as sweet and innocent as her mother but had had a liveliness that Mary had never possessed. There had been no sign of that liveliness and he wondered what had smothered it. He would not lay the blame for that change at the feet of Mistress Annora yet, but he would watch the woman closely.
    He inwardly grimaced, knowing he would find it no hardship to watch the woman. Mistress Annora was beautiful. Slender yet full-curved, her body caught and held a man’s gaze. Her thick raven hair made her fair skin looked an even purer shade of cream, and her wide midnight-blue eyes drew a man in like a moth to a flame. After three years alone he knew he had to be careful not to let his starved senses lead him astray, but he wasdefinitely eager to further his acquaintance with Mistress Annora.
    Suddenly he wondered if Mistress Annora was Donnell’s lover and wondered why that thought enraged him. James told himself it was because he did not want such a woman caring for his child. It might be unfair to