Read Online One Hot Scot by Suzanne Enoch - Free Book Online

same direction.
    “Give me what’s mine, you thief!” Bellamy yelled.
    “Come and take her, then!” Duncan returned, “if ye can do it with yer head blown off!”
    She reached a heavy oak door at the side of the house. Just as she had a heartbeat to wonder if it would be locked, it swung open, and a tall, red-headed man motioned her inside. “In with ye, lass. Where’s Master Duncan? I heard him bellowin’.”
    “Right behind me.”
    She ducked behind the door so she could watch without being seen; as she was the bone of contention, staying out of Bellamy’s view seemed the wisest thing she could do. Duncan stood a few feet before the open door, his rifle leveled in the earl’s direction. Bellamy and Orville rode back and forth in front of him, clearly trying to see if they could make their way past his guard.
    “This is trouble you don’t want, Duncan!” Bellamy called out, scowling. “Whatever she’s told you is a lie. She belongs to me, and you’re only doing yourself and your sisters a disservice.”
    “If ye dunnae know what she’s told me, how do ye know it’s a lie?” he shot back.
    “You’re protecting her, so she’s lying. Hand her over, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
    “Get off my land, and ye’ll live to see sunset,” Duncan replied, his voice as cool as if he was talking with Julia over their game of chess.
    “Bah. We’ll be back, with help. You have until three o’clock to come to your senses, Lenox!”
    He stood there blocking the door until both men had ridden out of sight. Only then did he lower the rifle and walk into the house. “Murdoch,” he said, “I want men with weapons at the windows.”
    “Aye, Master Duncan.” The servant took Duncan’s rifle and then their coats and hats. “Bellamy brought himself by here yesterday, asking after a brown-haired English lass. Insisted on looking through the house. I let him, but I kept that damned Orville Fersen ootside.”
    With a nod, Duncan took Julia’s hand, leading the way into the bowels of the house. “Where are my sisters?”
    “When the ruckus started, Sorcha herded the other two upstairs to yer grandmama’s room.”
    “Good. Who else is here?”
    “Just the usual lads, and Mr. Finchey and Father Ross come to ask for donations for rebuilding Mrs. MacGeath’s house after her boy kicked over the lantern.” The red-headed man kept pace behind them, as if he was accustomed to his employer dashing headlong through the large house. “This would be the brown-haired English lass, then?”
    “Aye, though any man with eyes could see that her hair’s auburn, nae brown.”
    As simple as it was, that seemed like a compliment. Heaven knew she hated it when people said her hair was brown. “Brown” sounded like such a dull color. “Auburn,” though … Julia shook herself. Clearly she was exhausted if she could spend time worrying over how people described her hair. She half turned and waved a hand in the butler’s direction. “Pleased to meet you, Murdoch.”
    “And ye, lass.”
    “Keep Finchey and Father Ross here, Murdoch,” Duncan ordered. “If they’ll nae help, they can at least be witnesses.”
    “They’ll nae be leaving, then. I’ll see to it now.” As they started up the stairs, Murdoch veered away toward the rear of the house.
    “Is he your butler?” she asked, winded and her fur-bound feet clumsy now on the precise stone stairs.
    “He organizes the house, so I suppose so. Dunnae call him that, though, or he’ll be putting on airs.”
    Duncan was glad that Julia could still take a moment here and there and notice what lay around her; most women in her position would likely be in a dead faint by now. But then he’d already realized that she wasn’t like most women. Or any woman he’d ever met, truly.
    With Bellamy giving them until three o’clock, he had somewhere around three hours to prepare for a fight. Until yesterday he would have spent a great deal of effort to avoid just this