Read Online Susana and the Scot by Sabrina York - Free Book Online Page B

arms.
    Susana had been devastated.
    She’d left the next day and she’d never returned.
    She’d never expected to see him again.
    She’d given him everything. He hadn’t even given her his full name.
    How could she ever have expected it was Andrew Lochlannach ? That he was the brother of the man Susana had encouraged her sister to marry?
    Ah, well, she thought as she headed up the stairs, exhausted after a long day of running from the past. It was all for the best. She’d learned to be cautious. She’d learned of the true nature of men. They were all faithless and selfish and led by their cocks.
    There was great relief in having learned that lesson. Because she would never be fooled again.
    She turned the corner and headed down the hall to her rooms; she’d known it would be a busy day and she’d known her father would invite him to dinner, so she’d given orders for her meal to be served in her suite. All she wanted to do was collapse in a chair and not think about anything. To curl up and close herself in. Perhaps shore up her defenses.
    The echo of deep male voices stalled her steps. Holding her breath, she tiptoed over to the door to the library gallery.
    The gallery formed the second floor of the grand library, ringing the room. As young girls she and Hannah had nested up here, spying on their father and his cronies. They’d learned a lot from this vantage point. Perhaps things young girls should not know.
    One of the men down below laughed, and Susana’s blood went cold. Of course Andrew Lochlannach would be having drinks with Papa. Men did such things. No doubt he was attempting to strengthen his position as the interloper.
    It was bad form, at her age, to eavesdrop, but Susana couldn’t help but creep closer.
    Before she had the opportunity to settle in though, a flicker of movement to her left captured her attention. She narrowed her eyes and peered into the shadows. A small bundle with downy, white-blond hair was crouched at the balustrade, fisting the rails and peering down at the assemblage below with an expression of absorbed fascination.
    Susana’s stomach rippled. A hint of horror dribbled through her.
    â€œ Isobel Mairi MacBean ,” she hissed.
    When her daughter didn’t respond, she scuttled closer, bending low so the men wouldn’t notice her. She grabbed her daughter’s arm.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    Isobel flashed a smile, one that was far too charming, far too dimpled for comfort. Her bluer-than-blue eyes danced. “Listening.”
    â€œIt’s rude to eavesdrop.”
    Isobel tipped her head to the side. “Then why were you doing it?”
    Susana ignored the heat crawling up her cheeks. “I most definitely wasna doing it. And I doona want to hear that you are. Now come along. It’s time for dinner.”
    Isobel sighed and stood, though Susana noticed she took the precaution of scooting back so she would remain out of view to the men below. They were sharing hunting stories at the moment, and, judging from the warbles of laughter, drinking as well. Tugging the imp through the door, she closed it with a decisive, though quiet, click.
    She whirled on her daughter and took the precaution of propping her fists on her hips and frowning so Isobel would understand the fullness of her disappointment. Isobel often had difficulty understanding such things. She opened her mouth to begin a lecture on propriety and privacy and probably some other motherly things, but Isobel spoke first.
    â€œWho were those men?”
    Susana blanched. “Those men?” She put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and guided her down the hall, away from danger. Or temptation. “Visitors. Shall we have supper in my rooms? It will be like a picnic.” Isobel enjoyed picnics …
    She wrinkled her nose. “Why will we no’ have supper with Grandpapa?”
    â€œHe has guests. We doona want to …