Pleasured Read Free Page B

better. The couple who lookafter him are good to him, but they understand they must not let him out of their sight. Orkney is not far enough away, I know, but it seemed unwise to move him to a city. Jack has been very agreeable about the matter, more so than my father deserves.”
    “Jack is not like most gentlemen. And your father is family to him now, after all.”
    “True.” Gregory grinned. “I suspect the man would do most anything Isobel asked.”
    “And vice versa.” Meg laughed. “They are almost enough to make one decide to marry.”
    “No!” He put on a shocked expression. “Surely not you.”
    “Nay, not I. Nor you, I’ll warrant. How are the happy couple? Have you heard from them?”
    “Aunt Elizabeth received a letter from Isobel, and it seems they are enjoying London very much. Still, I think they miss the Highlands. I would not be surprised if they return soon.”
    When they reached the edge of the village, Meg parted from her friend, following the road the carriage had taken until, after a few minutes, she came to an intersecting path. She paused for a moment, as she always did, to take in the landscape before her.
    To her left along the path lay the woods and her home and the loch, though from this vantage point she could not see the water itself. At the farthest end of the loch, dominating the countryside around it, was Duncally, the seat of the earls of Mardoun. It rose in manicured layers of gardens and terraces up the hillside, crowned at the top by the magnificence of the castle itself. No medieval fortress, the Earl of Mardoun’s home was more akin to a palace, all narrowtowers and turrets and spires and terraces, sparkling white in the sun.
    But Meg’s eyes were not drawn to this opulent sight. What always brought her to an admiring halt was the green clearing before her and the towering stones that stood in the center of it. Each weathered white rock was twice Meg’s height or more, and together they formed a massive oval with a gap here and a tumbled-down stone there that had once made the figure complete. In the distance was the grassy hump of a barrow, and on either side of the stone circle, but clearly apart from it, were two other standing stones, one smaller than the others and with a curious hole through the center.
    Meg drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes, the familiar sense of peace settling over her. Sometimes here among the “old ones” she could almost believe the tales her mother and Elizabeth Rose told, legends of the fey folk and mystical beings. She could almost believe the whispers about the Munro women and their uncanny knowledge of the forest and caves, their special skills with herbs and potions. Isobel Rose had once said that Meg was “one with the land,” and standing here, Meg knew she was.
    Until she opened her eyes and let out a sigh, and once more this was merely a lovely, peaceful spot, a bit of land special to the people of Kinclannoch, however little they knew now of what it had once been. And she was simply a woman who had grown up roaming the area and learning all its secrets, the descendant of a long line of women who were herbalists and healers.
    She made her way around the stones to take the path home, and as she turned, she cast a glance up toward thecastle that dominated the horizon. She wondered if the carriage had made it to Duncally yet; it was a long way round the loch to the mansion at the far end. Why had the earl decided to grace the glen with his presence? She wondered if Lady Mardoun had been in the carriage beside him. He looked the sort of man whom a wife would be foolish to let out of her sight.
    Meg clicked her tongue with annoyance. What was she doing, thinking about Mardoun or his lady? The gentry were nothing to her—especially someone as vile as Mardoun. The earl was not the only one evicting his crofters from the land their families had lived on for hundreds of years. Landowners such as Isobel Rose and her new husband who