Read Online Never Kiss a Laird by Tess Byrnes - Free Book Online

 
    Treading warily, Sally cursed
herself for not having a story ready for just such an occasion.   It made sense that people might ask her why
she was staying in Thorne, but in her desire to execute her plan and escape her
untenable situation at home, she had not bothered to come up with a reason for
her presence in the small village.   Thinking quickly, she replied, “I am staying with an old school
friend.    She, uh, is unwell and cannot
travel to London
at present, so I determined to come visit her.”    Surprised and pleased by her own quick wits,
Sally smiled broadly at the Earl.
    “I am acquainted with most of the
local families,” Hugh replied.   “With
whom are you staying?”
    Sally’s temper started to rise.   What business was it of his?     Hugh
saw a spark forming in her blue eyes, and was not surprised when she spoke more
sharply.   “I’m sure you cannot be
interested in my arrangements, sir,” she said repressively.
    “Oh but I am!”   Hugh contradicted blithely.   “I cannot but feel that it was remiss of you
to venture out without a groom in unknown country, and with a storm brewing.   I am surprised that your host would have
allowed it.”
    “I assure you,” Sally retorted, her
quick anger rising, “that I am perfectly capable of looking out for myself.   Your comments on my behavior are completely
without interest to me.”   She stopped,
self-consciously aware that she had indeed been most grateful for the
gentleman’s assistance.   Beauty could
have shaken her off, and then both she and her horse would have been in dire
straits.   Unbeknownst to Sally, this
internal debate was transparently depicted on her unguarded countenance, and
when she finally looked up, she saw such amused understanding in Hugh McLeod’s
brown eyes, that she felt her spurt of annoyance die out.  
      “That was rude of me,” she apologized with a
graceful smile.   “I truly am grateful for
your help with my horse.   I love her
dearly, and would not want her to be hurt on the moors.   And your help yesterday as well,” she added in
a grudging tone.
    “At your service,” Hugh bowed
deeply.   “And the name
of your school friend?”
    Sally pressed her lips together at
his persistence, but held on to her temper.   “You would not know her,” she temporized.   “She is a, er , a
shut-in!”
    At that moment a crack of thunder,
the loudest yet, broke immediately over the cave.   It set the horses whickering nervously, and
the Earl pulled them a little farther into the relative calm of the cave.   Tethering them in the dark recess therein
settled them down, and Hugh moved to the opening of the cave to gauge the
weather.
    “These thunder storms can pass as
quickly as they come on,” he called to Sally.   “We should be able to make a dash for it soon, with no worse effect than
a good drenching.”
    Sally came forward to stand next to
him, looking out over the grey moors.   The sky was dark, and after each clap of thunder, a fork of lightning would
shoot through the sky.   The view was
stark and grey, but magnificent.   A gust
of cold, February air blew at them, and Sally began to shiver.  
    The Earl looked at her with
concern.   “You look chilled to the bone,”
he noted.   Reaching for her hands, he held
them in his own, and she clung to them savoring the warmth that radiated from
his gloved hands.    He looked at her
red-tipped nose, her chattering teeth, and the damp fabric of her riding
dress.     She looked entirely adorable to him and he
fought an impulse to pull her into his arms.   Her lips would feel cool and soft, but would warm up quickly, the Earl
mused.   He saw that she was looking at
him quizzically, and gave himself a mental shake.  
    “Let me give you my jacket, Miss, Denlington,”
he offered, starting to strip off his green riding jacket.  
    “On no account in
the world!”   Sally exclaimed.   “You will catch your death.   Why should I