Read Online Sinfully Yours by Cara Elliott - Free Book Online

well-appointed barouche at the family’s disposal while he and Olivia were visiting Rome for their wedding trip. The interior was spacious, the seats were soft, the lap robes were warm—Anna dreaded to think what expressions of horror a hired vehicle would have drawn from their mother.
    Heaving an inward sigh, she opened her book to resume reading where she had left off the previous day. But after a few minutes, she found her attention wandering to the square-paned windows and the rain-drizzled landscape outside the glass.
    Scotland was, to her eyes, a starkly beautiful country, its austere angles and muted earthtone colors possessing a rough-cut appeal. The wind-carved granite had a chiseled strength, and the hardscrabble heather covering the mist-shrouded moors showed a rugged toughness in withstanding the force of the salt-tinged squalls blowing in from the North Sea.
    “What a dreary place,” announced Lady Trumbull. “I do hope that Miriam has plenty of entertainments planned.” Her face suddenly brightened. “Ah, but if the weather is too beastly for hunting, the prince and his party will be forced to remain indoors.”
    “It would have to be a full-force gale in order to convince the men to give up their shooting,” observed Caro.
    “Hmmph.” Lady Trumbull smoothed at her skirts. “I have never understood why they would want to be tramping around in the cold and mud, when they could be indoors enjoying the company of the ladies.”
    “Perhaps because there is some primal force that still resonates inside them—at heart they are hunters and gatherers,” murmured Anna.
    Her mother made a pained face. “Nonsense, my dear. The gentlemen invited to Dunbar Castle are civilized aristocrats, not heathen savages.”
    Were they? Anna did not bother to argue, but went back to reading her book on the history of Scotland. Accepting the countess’s invitation had been a stroke of inspiration, she decided. Given the country’s tumultuous past and its wildly atmospheric landscape, she was already envisioning a number of intriguing scenes for the last part of her novel.
    “Oh, look!” As if reading Anna’s thoughts, Caro pressed her nose to the rain-spattered windowpane and peered up at an ancient stone fortress. Perched atop a craggy cliff, it overlooked the gray-as-gunmetal waters of a broad loch, looking like a silent, solitary Highland warrior keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings. “Isn’t that romantic!” she exclaimed.
    Anna leaned over for a look.
    “Surely there are deep, dark dungeons cut into the ancient rock,” went on Caro. “And no doubt there are subterranean passageways that wind down and down to the water’s edge.”
    Anna repressed a smile as her sister added, “One can’t help but imagine all sorts of interesting stories taking place within a Scottish castle.”
    “Indeed,” she replied.
    Lady Trumbull gave a mock shiver. “Really, Caro, how you can wax poetic over a pile of moldering stones is puzzling. And Anna, please don’t encourage such girlish fantasies. I sometimes think that reading all those horrid novels is too overstimulating for a young lady’s sensibilities.”
    “On the contrary, Mama,” assured Anna. “Even so high a stickler as the dowager Duchess of Kirtland agrees that such stories are a harmless source of amusement.”
    Just as she suspected, mention of Society’s most influential arbiter of style quickly caused their mother to revise her opinion.
    “Oh, well, of course I agree with Her Grace that there is nothing wrong with enjoying a diverting tale. I simply meant that they ought to be enjoyed in moderation, especially by someone just out of the schoolroom.”
    Caro scowled, though she took pains to hide it.
    “It is, after all, an impressionable age, and your sister has not yet gained experience in the ways of Society.”
    “I have learned a great deal just by listening to Olivia and Anna,” protested Caro.
    “You would do well to emulate your