Read Online Some Like it Scot (Scandalous Highlanders Book 4) by Suzanne Enoch - Free Book Online Page A

shallow valley, its deep greens turning to gold and orange with the crisp autumn weather. A large herd of red deer pounded across a rain-swollen stream to his right and vanished into the thick stand of trees beyond. He made no effort to be stealthy; the Cat would likely hear or see them approaching, anyway, and trying to remain unseen would get him or Peter Gilling shot.
    â€œHaldane Abbey’s ahead,” the footman commented, and spat over his left shoulder.
    â€œAye. Keep yer opinion aboot it to yerself.”
    â€œIt’s nae an opinion, m’lai—Bear. That place is haunted.”
    â€œThen stay here. Just remember ye swore an oath.”
    â€œI knew this was a poor idea. Why do I nae listen to myself?”
    â€œBecause ye have more adventures if ye dunnae.” Munro took a breath as the old ruin came into sight. “Hello the house!” he called.
    The two women could be gone, of course. That would return everything to normal—to preparations for winter, to the daily routine of siblings and bairns and with him feeling the deepening need both to protect them all and to flee to where things could be as they were again—the MacLawrys and the Campells one murder away from open war, he and his two older brothers standing shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, feared and respected and damned ferocious Highlanders.
    But that was the past. He couldn’t begrudge Ranulf the happiness and peace the marquis and chief of their clan had found in his wife and son, even if Charlotte was a delicate Sassenach. Damned Arran had started out well, kidnapping Mary Campbell out from under half of clan Campbell and defying the Duke of Alkirk—the Campbell, himself. That had turned domestic, as well; Mary was a MacLawry now, and only a few weeks away from giving Arran his second bairn. His sister, Ro—
    A musket ball shredded a branch two feet from his head, the loud report sounding a heartbeat later.
    Well, she was still in residence. Peter Gilling threw himself out of the saddle, using the horse for cover and freeing his formidable blunderbuss in the same moment. Munro, though, raised both of his hands in surrender and nudged Saturn with his knees into a slow walk.
    â€œStop!” the sharp female voice he already recognized commanded.
    â€œDunnae shoot, Peter,” Munro muttered, then sat straighter in the saddle. “I’m surrendering to ye, lass!” She likely had no idea that he’d never uttered those words before, but the fact that she didn’t know that about him was … thrilling, almost.
    â€œIt’s nae surrendering if ye dunnae do as I tell ye,” she returned. “I dunnae want to shoot ye, Bear, but dunnae mistake reluctance for lack of conviction.”
    â€œAnd dunnae mistake my good humor fer stupidity,” he countered, even as it occurred to him that wild, uncivilized lasses didn’t use words like “reluctance” or “conviction.” Perhaps the dainty lass had taught them to her, though. “I gave ye my word that no harm would come to ye here.”
    â€œYe also swore that ye’d nae tell another soul about me. Unless that’s a spirit behind ye, I’d say yer word isnae worth shite.”
    Civilized lasses didn’t say “shite.” This Cat had interested him from the moment he’d set eyes on her. Given his general dislike of puzzles he’d put his intrigue to lust, but the more contradictions to her, the better he liked it. He didn’t even mind that she had a musket pointed at him. None of this made any damned sense at all. And even if the rampaging, larger-than-life Bear was mostly for show, he did like for things to make sense.
    â€œM’lai—Bear, I’m thinking ye should reverse yer course, there.” Gilling’s unamused voice came from behind him.
    â€œThis is Peter,” Munro said, knowing he had no intention of retreating. “We … hunt together from