Read Online The Lady Most Willing . . . by and Connie Brockway Eloisa James Julia Quinn - Free Book Online Page A

him,” Catriona said, tipping her head toward Taran. She had told
     Bretton that she could not spend the day alone with him. Finovair might be remote,
     and the circumstances of their gathering might be unusual (to say the least), but
     the rules of propriety could not be abandoned completely. When all was said and done,
     the Duke of Bretton was not going to marry Miss Catriona Burns of Kilkarnity. And
     Marilla Chisholm would still be the biggest gossip north of Dunbar.
    Catriona might be headstrong, but she was no rebel, and she did not think she could
     face a life as a social pariah. More to the point, she did not think her parents could
     face it.
    She would not shame them that way. She could not.
    With a weary sigh, she looked at the duke, willing herself not to drown in his blue
     eyes, and said, “Taran is right.”
    Taran uncrossed his arms and let out a sound that would have put a crow to shame.
    “Much as it pains me to admit it,” Catriona ground out.
    “Then I’m coming with you,” the duke said.
    Catriona tried to ignore the warm bubble of pleasure his words brought forth. She
     liked the Duke of Bretton. It didn’t matter if he sought her company as protection
     from Marilla. Because somewhere, deep down where she was afraid to acknowledge it,
     she knew that Marilla wasn’t the only reason he was insisting upon remaining by her
     side.
    He liked her, too.
    And even though nothing could ever come of it, Catriona decided that for once she
     was going to be utterly impractical and seize the day. Well, perhaps not utterly . She had, after all, just agreed with Taran that she should not remain alone in Bretton’s
     company. But if she was going to be stuck here at Finovair for heaven only knew how
     long, then by God she was going to enjoy herself.
    “Taran,” she said, turning back to the older man with a devilish smile, “do you have
     a caber?”
    “I ’m cold,” Marilla whined.
    “Stuff it,” Catriona said, without sparing her a glance. The men—Bretton, Oakley,
     and Rocheforte—were gathered around Taran, who was clearly relishing his role as man-in-charge.
     Catriona couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was waving his arms with great vigor.
    “Oh, look,” Marilla said, with a decided lack of interest. “Here comes my sister.”
    Catriona pulled her attention away from the men to see Fiona Chisholm dashing across
     the snow-covered lawn, hugging an ancient cloak around her. Catriona could see that
     she, too, had chosen to wear the same long-sleeved gown she’d had on the night before.
    “Have they started yet?” Fiona asked breathlessly.
    “I thought you were planning on remaining in your room all day,” Marilla said in a
     sulky voice.
    “I was, but then Mrs. McVittie told me that they were bringing out a caber.” Fiona’s
     eyes danced merrily behind her spectacles. “There is no way I would miss this.”
    “Taran won’t let us get too close,” Marilla complained. “He said the caber field is
     no place for the sexes to mingle.”
    “When did he become such a stickler for propriety?” Fiona asked.
    “You’d be surprised,” Catriona muttered.
    The three ladies stood in silence for a few moments, instinctively huddling together
     for warmth as they watched the men from afar. Catriona still couldn’t believe they
     were going to try to toss a caber, although truth be told, it hadn’t required much
     prodding on her part. The men had been almost absurdly eager to show off their prowess;
     truly, the only difficulty had lay in obtaining a caber. And even that hadn’t been
     that difficult. Taran’s men were presently hauling it up from the west field.
    Taran said something that made the men laugh, and then Rocheforte grinned and raised
     his arms as if to make his muscles bulge. Catriona felt herself grinning along with
     him. She’d had no cause to speak with him this day, but he certainly did seem an easygoing
     sort.
    “Do you know where Lady Cecily is?”