Tempted Read Free

the younger, sweeter daughter, could not wipe the satisfied smirk from her face as she helped herself to the mutton pie She adjusted the severe neckline of her gown trimmed with vair and whispered almost gleefully, “Trouble! Trouble is Valentina Kennedy’s middle name.”
    Ada, the Englishwoman Lady Kennedy had brought withher when she was but a girl, held on to her temper. Tina was her charge, but they were also friends and close confidantes. Ada was still an attractive woman who wore her hair in an upsweep to show off her long neck and dangling earbobs. “I warrant the poor animal which owned that mangy fur you’re wearing didn’t complain at losing it.”
    “Och!” Kirsty cried, compressing her lips until they disappeared. “Ye’ve an insolent tongue. ‘Tis plain tae see where Flaming Tina gets it.”
    “I freely admit I’ve taught her to stand up for herself. If you make a doormat of yourself, people will wipe their muddy boots on you in this world,” Ada said dryly.
    Some of the smugness crept back into Kirsty’s face. “My lord is incensed this time. I have my doubts she’ll stand up tae him long.”
    “Rob Kennedy will ride roughshod over any who will let him, but he admires guts, even in a woman. That’s something you’d know nothing about.”
    “If she were my charge, I’d soon whip some obedience intae her,” declared the Scotswoman. The steward laughed in her face. God’s passion, it would take a strong man in jackboots to whip obedience into Flaming Tina Kennedy.
    Ada said, “She’s sixteen, almost seventeen—a woman grown. She’s too old to take orders from a nursemaid.”
    “Beth takes orders from me,” Kirsty stated firmly. Ada wasn’t about to start pulling young Beth to pieces but said, “They are different as chalk and cheese. Valentina is all comely, shapely fascination and beauty.”
    “And well she knows it,” Kirsty accused, her eyes traveling down the tables to the men surrounding the tempting redhead “She has a reputation for bein’ a honeypot, an’ no wonder, when ye’ve been in charge of her morals.”
    Ada was a widow who could not deny she enjoyed the company of men. “Jealousy ill becomes you, woman.”
    “In my experience men prefer a bit more innocence. They dinna like it when some o’ the bloom has been rubbed off,” Kirsty said maliciously.
    “In your experience? There’s a figment of the imagination.” Ada had had enough and decided to silence her adversary. “Do you know what happens to spinsters on their fortieth birthday? Their holes make up!”
    Kirsty gasped, turned beet red, and fled from the table. The steward was still choking on a mouthful of ale. Ada’s satisfaction diminished somewhat when the page tugged at her sleeve. “Laird Kennedy wants tae see ye.”
    A pale Lady Kennedy followed her husband into the first-floor room he used for conducting his business. Valentina followed her in, and Ada brought up the rear, whispering, “One more day and he would have been gone.”
    Tina had a habit of shrugging one shapely shoulder, and Ada sighed with resignation. Sparks were bound to fly when two such volatile personalities came together.
    Mother and daughter seated themselves while Ada stood guard behind Tina’s chair. At one time Rob Kennedy had been a handsome man with a flaming torch of hair. Now it was sparse and gray. His florid face showed sagging jowls, and his paunch thrust forward as a testimonial to Mr. Burque’s talent. He was still an imposing man, however, with his broad back and shrewd eyes. He stood with his backside to the fire and asked in a deceptively quiet voice, “Do I detect a conspiracy here?” His eye fell upon his hapless wife. “Just how many proposals have ye been keepin’ from me?”
    Elizabeth grew even paler. “Rob, I know nothing of this,” she said softly.
    “Know nothing … know nothing? God ha’ mercy woman, do ye go through life wi’ blinkers on? Ye know nothing—ye never do!” His voice had