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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

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BOOK: A Highland Folly
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“It appears as if the ewe is not too distressed by the whole thing.” His eyes narrowed as the ewe sniffed at the lamb. “Mayhap the ewe is uncomfortable enough to want the lamb to suckle.”

“Mayhap.” Slowly Anice slid her hand out from beneath the lamb. It wobbled on its stick-thin legs and leaned against the ewe. “Or mayhap the vanilla is helping.”

“Vanilla?”

Standing, she took a cloth off the door of the cramped lambing pen and wiped her hands. “Haven't you heard of using vanilla to convince a ewe to take a lamb?” She opened the door and slipped out.

“I thought the best way to get a ewe to take a new lamb was to rub the replacement with the dead lamb's pelt,” he said as she picked up a bucket.

Apparently unaware of his admiration of her legs that were bare nearly to her knees beneath her kilted skirt, she hung the bucket on the peg near the door and shook her head. “Putting a dead lamb's pelt over a new lamb can be the best way to kill it if the dead one was born with some horrible affliction. That could sicken the living one. Vanilla works well. A daub on the ewe's nose and a dab on the lambkin's back end, and the ewe is convinced the scent means the babe is hers.” Turning to him, she added with a laugh, “If that doesn't work, I bring Pippy in here to sleep by the pen.”

“The dog and not your llama, who seems to think he is one of the sheep?”

“A dog nearby always seems to rouse the maternal instinct in the most recalcitrant ewe, because she fears a predator will steal the lamb.”

“You seem to have a knack for dealing with sheep.”

“We had some when we lived in South America.” She smiled as she wiped her hands on the stained cloth. “In the East we had goats.”

Grinning, he watched while she carefully rounded a pile of droppings with the ease of many hours in the barn.

“What is so amusing?” she asked.

He almost spoke of how he found her bare limbs infinitely amusing as he imagined drawing them against him. Instead, he replied, “A titled lady who works in the sheepfold.”

“It is quiet here.”

Lucais nodded, understanding what she did not want to chance being overheard by others. Although her family might demand much of her time, she wished to avoid hurting their feelings. “That quiet is what I came to tell you about.”

“You are going to do more blasting?”

“Tomorrow early.”

She sat on a stone bench against the wall. “That is sure to cause more trouble. I had understood that Mr. Tawes was going to ask you to refrain from that work.”

“I promised the mayor that I would keep the blasting to a minimum. The men have been working as long as they can without more blasting. If we do not set the charges, the project will come to a standstill.”

“I noticed. It is quiet without any explosions of gunpowder to interfere with the song of the birds and the murmur of the wind. The air is fresh, for the dirt is staying on the ground, where it belongs, instead of being fired sky high.” Anice folded her arms in front of her. She should be grateful that Lucais had come to tell her this, but her ears already rang with the anger that her cousins were sure to let blare through the manor house. “I like it better this way.”

“I am sure you do. I must own that I like this as well.” His finger boldly stroked her shoulder. Pleasure swirled through her, frightening her with his easy conquest of her senses.

She must end this, but all she could think of was his bold touch. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the whole barn as he stood between her and the door. “I should go and—”

“And what? Get ready for the meeting you are attending this evening?”

“Meeting?” She feared he must have felt her flinch at his question. Sir Busby had assured her that the meeting tonight would be only for those who wanted to discuss the road project in a rational manner. Her lips tightened. No doubt as soon as Sir Busby had invited Mr. Tawes, the mayor had informed his wife, who quickly spread the word through the glen.

Although Lucais did not touch her save for that questing fingertip, she was too aware of how near he stood. His finger wafted along her shoulder and eased upward along her neck, revealing delights she had not guessed existed. Billows of heat surrounded her when it settled beneath her chin and tilted her face upward. She was caught by the answering fire in his eyes, unable to look away, not wanting to end the moment of impossible joy.

“You have never lied to me before,” he whispered. “Why not be honest with me, as I am with you when I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Lucais, you should not say things like that.”

“Because I am the chief engineer on the road project and you came here to the barn to compose yourself before you went to a meeting to prevent it from being built?”

She started to shake her head, but the caress of his finger along her jaw halted her. Closing her eyes, she savored his finger's gentle stroking as he created enchantment across her cheek. She shivered and could not halt him when he put his arm around her waist as he drew her the half step forward into his embrace.

When Anice opened her eyes to see his lips nearing hers, she jerked herself away. She gasped as she stumbled back against the pen's door. Instantly she jumped aside, unsure if amusement or a more potent emotion burned in his eyes. Edging past him, she pointed to the door. She did not trust her voice.

“I assume you want me to leave,” Lucais said with a terse laugh. “Yet you have a difficult time remembering that when you are close to me.”

“You are very sure of yourself, Lucais MacFarlane.”

“I must be when too many stand in the way of getting what I want.” He cupped her chin as he added, “And because I know what kind of trouble you are courting when you go to that meeting tonight.”

“You keep babbling on about this so-called meeting.”

He bent so their eyes were level. “Anice, there is no sense in pretending innocence. Everyone in Killiebige is abuzz with the news of the meeting tonight. One that
you
called, if
on-dits
are right.”

“Those rumors are wrong. I did not ask for this meeting.” She bit back her irritation when he smiled at her inadvertent acknowledgment of the meeting. “Lucais, this is none of your bread-and-butter.”

“You are correct.” He smiled when she regarded him with amazement. “I should not get involved in this. Neither should you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Mayhap, but can you take care of them when they explode with zeal fired by the speeches that are sure to run late into the night?”

She tried to pull away, but the scant space kept her imprisoned more than his hands on her elbows. When he stepped toward her, she backed away, bumping into the wall. The stones jabbed through her thin gown. She put up her hands to keep him from coming closer, but he put his hands on the wall on either side of her.

“Anice,” he whispered, “please tell me that you will have second thoughts about attending this meeting. If you stay home tonight, tempers may cool.”

“You give me too much credit.” She tried to slide away from him, but his arm blocked her way. Knowing that to appeal to his common sense was useless, she had no choice but to say, “Lucais, I must go and change so I am not late.”

He smiled icily. “I could keep you from attending.”

“You probably could, but have you considered that the consequences of me not attending might be worse than if I do go?”

“I have considered every aspect of this from every possible angle, and I know it would be best if you were to stay here with me now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know quite well.” His hands settled on her shoulders as he closed the distance between them.

When his wool trousers brushed against her bare legs, she gasped. She had forgotten how she had drawn up her skirt to keep it from being soiled. No wonder he had been wearing that smile as he looked at her. She was dressed no better than a ladybird.

His hand caressed her neck before his fingers tangled in her hair as he tilted her lips beneath his. No words formed in her jumbled mind. The sensation of him against her swept aside every other thought. Staring at his lips, she could not halt her hands from discovering his brawny arms.

“I have thought often of what might happen if I were with you alone in such a secluded spot,” he murmured, blue-hot fire burning in his eyes. “Lovely Anice, with your hair ablaze and your eyes like twin storms, I have thought night after night of this moment.”

“Don't …” Her protest vanished into a sigh when his fingertip caressed her ear. A quiver sliced through her, potent and persuasive.

“Why not?” he whispered against her other ear.

The heat of his breath whirled within her, a prelude to the pleasures his eyes suggested. Again he guided her lips toward his. Forgetting everything but the sweet promise of rapture on his lips, she wanted to be held, to be lured from her despair, to delight in forbidden kisses.

“Anice! What are you doing?”

Aunt Coira's reproving gasp echoed through the barn, and Anice pulled herself away once more. As she smoothed down her kilted skirt, which suggested an intimacy they had not shared, her face flamed with mortification. She did not look at either her aunt in the doorway or at Lucais.

He smiled coldly. “She was about to sell me her soul, Mrs. Kinloch.” When Aunt Coira scowled, he asked, “Isn't that what all of you Kinlochs think? That I am the devil and she is my prey? Did you ever ask yourself that it might be Anice who is trying to seduce me here in this trysting place?”

Anice cried, “You know that is not true!”

“Mayhap so, but it makes us even after the lies you have lathered me with today.” He gripped her shoulders, all gentleness gone from him. “But I will be honest with you. You need to stay away from that meeting tonight. It is sure to lead you into more trouble.”

Aunt Coira snapped, “Young man, release her this very minute.”

Obeying, Lucais dipped his head toward Aunt Coira. “Good day, Mrs. Kinloch.” He looked back at Anice, and his eyes still scorched her with their fury. “I bid you a good day
and
what I hope will be a pleasant evening, Anice.”

Not wanting to retort when Aunt Coira was listening, Anice let her breath slide out in a deep sigh as Lucais walked out of the barn. Mayhap she should be grateful that Aunt Coira had intruded as she had. Surrendering to Lucais's tender seduction would be a mistake, especially when things were so uneasy.

“Anice,” chided Aunt Coira, “you should know better. I thought you had learned your place despite your upbringing.”

She knew she should ignore the insult aimed at her mother as she had those of so many others since she had arrived at Ardkinloch, but her emotions were too frayed to hold back. “Aunt Coira, I will thank you not to speak of my mother that way.”

“She should have brought you home here as soon as Ailbert died. Your place as your father's heir was here at Ardkinloch, not in some heathen country on the far side of the world.”

“Aunt Coira—”

Once started, her aunt clearly did not intend to be silenced until she had said her fill. As she berated Anice's parents' lack of good sense and how the family now was suffering for it, she barely paused to take a breath.

Anice pretended to listen, knowing that anything she said to defend her parents, most especially her mother, would be dismissed as worthless. More and more she was understanding why her father had used any excuse to leave Ardkinloch and why her mother chose not to return.

As her aunt continued, Anice wondered how she could have let Lucais woo her into such a compromising situation. So swiftly he had taken advantage of it … and her. That must not happen again.

Seven

Anice slipped her light blue gown over her head and smoothed the dress down. She adjusted the white ribbons beneath the high bodice and checked that the undecorated skirt left no more than her ankles visible. With habit, she reached to hook up herself. She grimaced as Fenella's fingers batted hers away. Having a maid was a luxury she could not become accustomed to. Although she had lived well while with her mother, she had learned to take care of herself.

“Just in case you find yourself in difficult circumstances,” Mother had told her more than once. What Mother had not guessed was that living here with the Kinlochs and their strict parameters of what was right and wrong were the most difficult circumstances she had imagined … since Lucais MacFarlane had burst into her life.

Anice tugged at her short sleeves to puff them correctly. When white-haired Fenella ordered her to stand still, she could not keep her toe from tapping with impatience. How she wished this evening were over! That Lucais was right about her staying away was something she hated to own to, but she wanted to agree with him. Yet, to stay here might cause even more trouble because Parlan was going to the meeting tonight too, eager to meet with some of the more volatile villagers. Sir Busby might be able to keep control of the meeting, but she was not certain of that.

“Done,” Fenella announced with satisfaction.

“Thank you.” Sitting on the bed, Anice pulled on her best slippers. Easily she crisscrossed the white ribbons around her legs, tying them around her calves, the calves that had been so visible to Lucais this afternoon. A quiver of pleasure raced through her, unstoppable, as she recalled the longing in his voice as he drew her closer.

What an air-dreamer she was! Getting more deeply involved with him was asking for more trouble. Aunt Coira had made that clear in her lecture that afternoon.

Anice stood to look into the glass, but her gaze focused on her face. It was taut with emotion. Taking her bonnet from her maid, she straightened her shoulders as she went down the stairs.

Seeing Neilli waiting at the bottom, Anice tried to conceal her surprise. She knew she had failed when her cousin laughed and asked, “Did you expect Lucais MacFarlane to be waiting here to compliment you? He does not need pretty words when he has already inveigled his way into your arms.”

BOOK: A Highland Folly
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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