Read Online Highland Heat by Mary Wine - Free Book Online

a fact. No Scottish noble rode the Highland roads in his court clothing. One of the soldiers offered his hand to her. Deirdre realized she’d been lost in thought and was still sitting on top of her mare. Her cheeks colored, but she was grateful for the lapse of attention, because it made her look more like the queen. Joan would have waited for one of her escort to help her down.
    But it seemed so wasteful of the strength Deirdre had in her own body. She placed her hand in the one offered and slid from the back of the mare. She reached up to pat the animal on the neck, without thinking, and the appreciative gesture gained her a frown from the soldier who had assisted her.
    Deirdre continued to stroke the neck of the mare. She might have agreed to wear the queen’s clothing, but she would not be so arrogant as to deny a horse that had carried her all day a kind touch.
    “This way, Majes—madam.”
    The soldiers stumbled over the word “ madam ,” his tone loud enough to drift to those watching them enter the inn. Deirdre stepped up and through the doorway while whispers rose around her. They died away when she appeared, the patrons staring at her over their wooden bowls of stew and broken rounds of bread.
    The soldiers directed her to a large table, and two men who sat too near were sent to another table with a harsh look from the captain. A serving girl quickly appeared to sweep a cleaning rag across the surface of the chair before Deirdre sat on it.
    “Ye must be cold and hungry. I’ll fetch ye up a serving of me mother’s supper. It’s the tastiest in the area.”
    Deirdre opened her mouth but closed it when the captain interrupted her.
    “That will be good. Thank you.” His words were clipped and the girl hurried away. He sent a hard look toward Deirdre, clearly attempting to remind her to remain silent. The man nodded to her, but there was no mistaking the glint in his eye.
    Deirdre stared straight back at him, refusing to lower her chin. She was posing as a queen, after all, and she doubted Joan Beaufort would allow a member of her escort to put her in her place. The soldier frowned but ducked his head after a moment.
    “Straight off the fire, mistress.”
    The serving girl returned with a tray that contained a steaming bowl. Her face was flushed from how fast she was moving, but her eyes glittered with anticipation of earning some additional coin for her troubles.
    Deirdre lowered her eyelashes to veil the shame that entered her eyes. For the first time, she was ashamed of the fact that she was deceiving her own countrymen in the effort to gain what she wanted.
    The stew smelled delicious, though, and when it was placed in front of her, she couldn’t think of anything except tasting it. She burned her tongue because it was too hot, but that didn’t keep her from smiling.
    “I told ye it was tasty. The bread is warm too, and I brought ye some sweet-cream butter me sister churned from this morning’s milk.”
    Deirdre looked up, but the captain answered for her.
    “Our mistress is well pleased with your offerings. We would have your best room for the night.”
    He flipped a silver coin onto the tabletop that made the serving girl smile wide enough to show off her teeth. She scooped the silver off the table almost before the sound of it hitting the wooden surface faded.
    “I’ll get me sister to seeing to the room.” She was gone in a moment, on her way back to the kitchen, where an older woman with fabric wrapped tightly around her hair to keep it out of the fire looked back toward her with excitement. The girl held up the coin, and the woman took it, nodding before she snapped her fingers at someone else in the kitchen.
    “That was a great deal of silver.”
    The captain leaned toward her to keep their words from drifting to the others eating nearby.
    “We needs inspire talk, madam. Let them think we have so much money that we never bother to count it.”
    “As if there is such a person