Read Online By God's Grace by Felicia Rogers - Free Book Online Page A

On the right side, Duncan stopped, leaned around the corner, and looked.
    There she sat crossed-legged in front of a small fire. She was covered in a heap of furs. On the fire sizzled eggs and salted meat. Whistling left her lips as she worried the meal. Once done, she retrieved it and disappeared.
    Duncan followed. With a sweeping arm, the flap of the tent was pulled aside. He strode inside and planted his feet. His hands strayed to either side of his hips. Jaw clenched. Eyes set. Authority exuded.
    Arbella had yet to notice him. The lass sat on a pile of cushions in the corner enjoying the cooked breakfast. A study of the tent revealed few luxuries. A changing screen took up most of the room. Made with a wooden frame, it held a design of oriental women with pale skin and delicate fans covering their faces. Just behind the screen one could see a feminine dress hanging next to a kilt and a head covering. In the opposite corner, leaning against one of the supports, was a long sword and a bow. A quiver sat nearby holding a set of arrows.
    One brow rose in question. What kind of woman had this young lady become?
    ****
    Upon awaking, Arbella knew she couldn’t stay under Duncan’s roof, especially not in his rooms. Heat infused her cheeks from the memory of crawling toward him and laying her hand upon his chest. Where had the audacity come from? Mortified by her behavior, she rolled over and feigned sleep. She’d been unable to stay in her position until Duncan’s eyes opened.
    Legitimate sleep overtook her. The next morning, Duncan was gone. Empty of his warmth, Arbella worried about her future. Without thought to the consequences, she informed Tamara she was going home and left.
    Breakfast was the first thing on her agenda. Outside on a fire, she cooked. Now here she sat enjoying her eggs, and Duncan had come invading her domicile.
    With a wide stance, the laird of the Sinclair clan stood, resembling a giant beast, scoping out his surroundings and preparing to pounce. Green eyes shifted about the room. He twisted his neck and studied the instruments in the corner. Arbella ignored the actions. The bite of egg stayed in mid-air before continuing on into her waiting mouth.
    A deep inhale of breath expanded her lungs. Duncan’s handsomeness was unsurpassed. No wonder Cainneach’s widow wanted him for her own.
    The two of them were at a stalemate. Arbella continued to eat. Duncan continued to study. As if in a game of chess, he made the first move. “Why did ye leave the keep?”
    A simple question, like moving a pawn on the chessboard. Arbella shrugged and continued chewing.
    Duncan’s cheeks turned a flaming red, his ire growing. The stare he gave her would have felled a lesser man, and perhaps she should tremble with fear, but she didn’t. “Arbella, look at me,” came the whispered command.
    Without hesitation, she gazed upward, and she answered, “Aye?”
    â€œI asked ye a question.”
    â€œAye, you did, and I gave you an answer.”
    â€œNay, ye did not.” Duncan shrugged and added, “That is not an answer.”
    â€œAye, it was an answer. It simply means I don’t know why I left. I just did.”
    â€œVerra well. I dislike yer answer, but we will discuss it later. For now ye will come back were ye belong.”
    â€œDuncan, was I in your bed?”
    He gulped, startled by the change in topics. “Aye, ye were.”
    Staring at the eggs, a flush crept up her cheeks. “I thought so. It had your scent all over it.”
    He didn’t respond to her statement but changed topics himself. “Arbella, it is good to see ye again.”
    She glanced up, arching her brow. Duncan had always been able to take her off-guard. Palm open, she said, “Please sit, Duncan, and make yourself comfortable.”
    He sat without complaint. On a large stack of pillows, he leaned back and made himself at home. “Arbella, why did ye do