Snowy Night with a Highlander Read Free Page A

cupping his hand to his ear.
    “A response, Uncle,” she said, and looked at Cameron. “As long as that, sir? Shall no one be leaving ere week’s end?”
    “I will do my best,” Cameron assured her.
    “His best what?” Seaver demanded.
    Fiona looped her arm through her uncle’s. “His best effort, Uncle!” she said loudly. “He shall call at week’s end!”
    “Ah,” Seaver said, and smiled at Cameron. “We canna ask for better than that, eh? Thank you kindly, my good man. Our regards to the laird, then. Come along, Fiona—we’ve taken enough of the man’s time.”
    Duncan waited behind the drapes until Cameron returned from seeing Fiona Haines and her uncle to the door, then slowly stepped out. Cameron was one of the few people he allowed to see him when he wasn’t wearing a patch over his eye. The fire had done the most damage to his neck and left arm, which hung awkwardly and often uselessly at his side. But there was also a swath of burned, puckered skin that ran from his eye to his jaw, tugging his left eye down slightly in a manner that seemed ugly to Duncan.
    If Cameron had ever been repulsed by his visage, Duncan had never seen it.
    “You heard it all, milord?” Cameron asked simply.
    “Every last foolish word,” Duncan said gruffly, and ran a hand over the top of his head. It was foolish—a woman had no business traveling alone save for a lady’s maid into the Highlands. But Fiona Haines seemed inordinately determined, and Seaver had guessed correctly—at the veryleast, Duncan would be returning to Blackwood for the Christmas feast and Hogmanay, an important Highland tradition and celebration that ushered in the new year. As the laird of Blackwood, Duncan was expected to be on hand to deliver the annual blessing of the estate’s houses and livestock.
    He could see from Cameron’s expression that he was thinking the same thing—that he would be making the journey, and it would not do to let a young woman travel alone. He sighed. “It’s bloody foolish of her. But I suppose I must, eh?”
    Cameron merely nodded.

Chapter Two

    S till vexed from having been summarily uprooted from London to Edinburgh, Fiona’s lady’s maid, Sherri, was in high dudgeon when Fiona informed her they would be traveling on to Blackwood.
    “To Blackwood ?” she echoed, her voice clearly conveying her displeasure. “Where’s that, then? No’ the Highlands, milady! Say it is no’ the Highlands !”
    “What could you possibly dislike about the Highlands?” Fiona demanded irritably. “You’ve never been north of Edinburra.”
    “And with good reason! There be naugh’ but heathens up there—I’ve heard it said all me life.”
    “Heathens!” Fiona scoffed. “That’s absurd! I hail from the Highlands, Sheridan—do you think me a heathen?”
    “No, mu’um. But you’ve left those hills and the murderers and thieves who live in those nooks and crannies.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake, Sherri,” Fiona groaned. There was no point in arguing—she’d not convince Sherri, who was superstitious to the point of distraction, that there were good and decent people throughout the Highlands until shesaw it for herself. Murderers and thieves indeed! “Pack our things,” she said archly. “We’ve had word from the Buchanan throne that we will be departing Saturday morning.”
    “The laird is to take us, then?” Sherri asked as she picked up a dressing gown.
    “Ha!” Fiona scoffed. “ That would require a jewel-studded litter and a host of escorts. No’ to mention a herald.”
    “Pardon?” Sherri asked, confused.
    Fiona waved her hand at Sherri. “Nothing so lofty as the laird, I’m afraid. I understand we are to travel with the supply coach, no’ in a laird’s conveyance.”
    There was more grumbling from Sherri as she folded the gown. “Ye must know the laird, then,” she said. “What’s he like? An unkempt beard, I’d wager, and hands as big as chickens.”
    Fiona snorted. “He’s