Read Online Taken by the Laird by Margo Maguire - Free Book Online Page A

duties. As they wandered through the castle, he could seduce her slowly, tantalizing her with the promise of pleasures to come. His task was to convince her that she need not run off to Dundee to find employment, but stay with him at Castle Glenloch. Perhaps he would even take her to Newbury Court in the spring.
    It was a perfect solution for both of them. He wanted her fiercely, and she needed his protection. Besides, he did not care to return to London any time soon. Life had become too complicated there. They could remain at Castle Glenloch, or visit one of his country houses where he and Bridget MacLaren could enjoy each other without interruption or interference.
    “Laird,” said Mrs. Ramsay, intruding once again. “MacGowan is here fer ye.”
    Hugh had known he would have only one night to learn what he could about his brandy before being discovered by the servants. As of last night, he knew exactly how many tubs of undiluted brandy lined the walls in the secret chamber in the buttery.
    He straightened up from Bridget’s delectable scent and answered Mrs. Ramsay. “Send him to my study.” Then he spoke to Bridget. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see my estate manager, but I’ll come and find you in your chamber in an hour.”
    “No! I mean, I’ll just meet you…here.”
    “Afraid of me, Miss MacLaren?”
    “Of course not,” she replied quickly. “ ’Tis only that I…”
    “You plan on exploring on your own?”
    She shrugged. “Perhaps. If you’ve a library, I might find something to read.”
    “Aye. Just next to the drawing room.” She was a woman interested in books. A governess, then. He hid a small smile at the thought of pleasures to come. With a governess. She was going to be far more interesting than the well-practiced courtesans of his acquaintance.
    Hugh left the dining chamber and went to the study where estate business had always been conducted. There, he found Malcolm MacGowan, a tall, burly man with hands the size of shovels and a perpetually irritable expression on his face. Hugh wondered how he would comport himself in the ring and decided he’d be a formidable adversary.
    MacGowan combed his bright coppery hair over a receding hairline and grew thick muttonchop whiskers, perhaps to compensate for the lack on his pate. Hewas only five or six years older than Hugh’s own thirty years, but had never married. From his early morning discussion with Mrs. Ramsay, Hugh had learned the man harbored a secret infatuation with a Stonehaven lass. “The fool doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Hugh muttered as he entered his study. ’Twas far better to leave one’s emotions unattached and enjoy the moment with a willing lass.
    “Laird,” MacGowan said, rising from his seat by the fire. “We didna know ye were coming.”
    “Aye. It was an impulse. I left London rather abruptly.”
    MacGowan frowned. “Woman trouble, then?”
    “You might say so,” Hugh admitted, unsurprised that MacGowan knew of his reputation. The gossip sheets played fast and loose with his name so frequently that he was known for his supposed exploits all the way to Aberdeen.
    The worst yet was what would soon be said about his encounter with Charlotte de Marche, although she’d brought it upon herself. Hugh had never expected her to corner him the way she’d done. He’d been polite, but not quite a gentleman, for that kind of fool would have allowed himself to be shackled as a result of the lady’s bold advances.
    From here on, he was going to take pains to stay clear of the ladies of the ton. Not a one was trustworthy.
    “We’ve a shipment stored and waiting for dilution and distribution,” MacGowan said.
    “Ah?” Hugh remarked as though he did not alreadyknow it. “ ’Tis well-hidden in the buttery, I trust?”
    “Aye. ’Tis a large shipment, too. Ye’ll garner a tidy sum from it.”
    Hugh tried to discern if there was any dissembling in MacGowan’s tone, any disappointment or annoyance in his manner.