Read Online Lessons in Loving a Laird by Michelle Marcos - Free Book Online

anyway.
    She hadn’t wanted to stop. She hadn’t wanted it to ever stop. But to give of herself so freely would lessen her value in his eyes. And that she was not willing to let happen.
    And as slumber overtook her, she marveled at the foolishness of trying to seduce a man who was clearly trying to seduce her.

Demo version limitation

Demo version limitation

 
    TEN
    Duncan McCullough was a most insidious man. Though outwardly cordial and open, he fashioned his words carefully to elicit a desired response, and there was a motive behind every handshake and minute gesture of hospitality. Perhaps, Hartopp reasoned, it was how he was able to amass such a large fortune without much opposition—at least not from anyone who dared to be vocal about it.
    “Ye’re no doubt tired of being squeezed into that cramped carriage. My son Brandubh and I were just about to do some hunting. Walk with us.”
    Only two things would have relieved the ache in Hartopp’s stiff joints—a good rest or a good walk. He nodded, and followed the McCullough men out of the house and into the forest. Trailing behind them were two servants who carried ammunition and bottles of whisky.
    “The MacAslan gels,” he said, staring straight out ahead of him. “I’ve been looking for that ragamuffin pair since they ran away from my man Seldomridge more than a decade ago. Where did they turn up?”
    Hartopp knew better than to reveal his hand. The information he possessed had a monetary value. Once the information was out, there was no need to pay him for it.
    “Down south, just north of England. I know precisely where they are, and where ye can find them.”
    “That’s good news indeed,” McCullough said. “I’ll want to know. But how did ye find them?”
    “Accidentally. I found them working on a remote farm.”
    “And how came ye to know that I was looking for them?”
    Many had heard about the justice meted out to the MacAslan family. It served as a cautionary tale for anyone even considering not showing for battle. But Hartopp had learned of the slaughter directly from the chief of the McBray clan. One of the daughters of the chief was to be married to Hamish, the eldest MacAslan son. The McBray lass was so distraught at learning of her fiancé’s murder that she took her own life.
    Hartopp cast him a deferential glance. “Word spreads, McCullough. In the Highlands, everyone knows yer business.”
    He displayed a smile. “Glad to hear it.”
    They had quietly footed through the forest, careful not to step upon any twigs or brittle leaves lest they scare away any game. Finally, they spotted a pair of beautiful young does munching in a clearing. Stealthily, Brandubh braced the rifle against his shoulder and took aim. As the men silently watched, Brandubh pulled the trigger. The sound of the rifle exploded in Hartopp’s ears, and a puff of smoke burst from the flintlock. Brandubh’s shot found its mark, crippling one of the does. They bolted, one of them hobbling away.
    “Did ye see? I clipped her in the flank,” Brandubh crowed. “Let’s go after her.”
    “Och! She’ll get far before she’ll tire. And my legs won’t sustain me. Go on. Follow the trail of blood. Ye’ll find her soon enough.”
    The younger McCullough took off running through the forest to finish off his quarry.
    “I trained him well, did I not?” asked Duncan. “Do you have any children of yer own, Hartopp?”
    “No doubt, but none that I’ll claim,” he quipped, to Duncan’s rich laughter.
    “Brandubh’s an ambitious cur, more than his da was before him. He’s just as keen to grow the McCullough holdings, but that boy has a head for politics. I canna wait to see what will happen to the Council when I turn Brandubh loose upon them.”
    It was not pride in his son that Hartopp saw in Duncan McCullough’s eyes. It was bloodlust.
    “Now,” he burst, changing the subject. “I sense ye’ve come with a proposition for me. Let’s have it.”
    “I’m a