Wake Me With a Kiss: A Fairy Tale Retelling (Regency Fairy Twists Book 1) Read Free Page A

could.
“I understand it is a shock, and I’m a merely lowly highlander to yer eyes. If
it’s of any consolation, it was a shock to me too. I never expected to inherit,
but, alas, I am the last male heir.”
    She eyed him for several moments, her lips puckered as though she had
eaten something sour. At some point, that determined chin and those thin lips
had grown appealing. He could not quite think when. Even when all wrinkled into
a barely visible pout, he liked them. Her obvious disdain for him could not
seem to change that.
    What a fool he was. He was addled in the head. That was it. The war had
damaged him, and now, he could only like women who clearly loathed him.
    “You really are the laird?”
    “Aye. I returned from the war especially to be one.” He smirked.
    “I see.”
    He wasn’t sure what she saw, but at least she was no longer arguing with
him that he was not in fact who he said he was.
    A blur of fur barreled toward him, and he turned his head in time to see
Rupert scrabble up the lass’s legs. Her sour expression vanished, replaced with
one that was utterly compelling. A wide smile and soft eyes greeted the dog as
she lifted him up.
    “There you are,” she cooed, letting the dog lick her cheek.
    “Ye damned mutt,” he grumbled. All day searching for him and the animal
did not care one bit that he had been worried to death for the dog he had
picked up on his way to Scotland. “Ye see a beautiful woman and forget yer
master instantly.”
    The woman turned her attention to him. “He’s yours?”
    “Aye. Well, sort of. I picked him up as a stray in Newcastle.”
    She petted the dog’s head. “I thought he looked well though he seemed to
be hungry this morning.”
    “He’s always bloody hungry,” he muttered and scowled. “What do ye mean ‘this
morning’?”
    She laughed. The sound did odd things to his insides. If he weren’t
careful, he’d be staring at her, open-mouthed as if he had never seen a lass
before.
    “He caused a little bit of trouble at my aunt’s house this morning. I
think he was looking for food so he snuck into the kitchen.”
    Hamish shook his head. “Ye’ll have to forgive him. Rupert has not yet
learned how to behave civilly. I have been trying to keep him in the castle
until he’s better trained, but he escaped this morning.”
    “Rupert?” She gave the dog a scratch behind the ear. “That’s an odd name
for a dog.”
    “I’ve heard worse,” he said tightly, unwilling to explain his choices to
this nosey woman.
    “He looks more like a Charlie or…or a Lucky.”
    “Well, he’s Rupert, if the lady has no objections.”
    “I did not mean to…” The dog wriggled from her arms and burrowed his
head into the basket. The woman laughed. “I suppose you are still hungry.” She
set Rupert down and the sandy-colored animal made quick work of dragging the
ham from the basket and gnawing it down to the bone.
    “Was that for him?” he asked.
    “Yes. I was worried he was a stray. Mrs. Shaw frightened him off, so I
wanted to make sure he was well.”
    “Well, apart from some very bad manners and the habit of running into
places where he does not belong, Rupert is a healthy mutt.”
    She peered at the dog. “He really is a mutt, is he not?”
    “Aye, there’s certainly no breeding in him.” The dog had been matted beyond
recognition and riddled with fleas when he had begun following Hamish around.
But he could not resist taking him in, cleaning him up, and feeding him. “I
think he remembers the days he was starving and now he wants to be fed
constantly, fearful of the day he might no’ get a meal again.”
    “Poor thing.” She gave Rupert a good fuss before straightening. “I suppose
I ought to return to my aunt’s. It must be past the morning meal.”
    “Aye, well past, I reckon. Ye know, ye should not sleep out here.
Anything could have happened to ye.”
    “I know these lands well. I have never come to harm yet.”
    “Ye should be grateful