Read Online The Warrior Laird by Margo Maguire - Free Book Online Page B

MacMillan’s touch had given rise to an excitement that charged through her nether parts like lightning. ’Twas the yearning of a woman for a man’s touch.
    Maura shivered even now when she remembered the slide of his hand down to her hips. The press of his body against hers had felt so intimate and so incredibly arousing, she had lost all sense of reality. She’d forgotten her purpose, failed to ascertain who was up and about.
    Besides Dugan MacMillan.
    But now her reckless moment was over. She had a plan to put into play and it could be delayed no longer. With Bridget tucked away downstairs, Maura had looked closely at Argyll’s map and found no indication of any hidden treasure. There hadn’t even been the expected notations giving the names of villages and lochs. Even worse, the map seemed to be merely a torn portion of a larger document.
    It appeared to be completely useless, but Maura knew that could not possibly be. Not when it had been tucked away in Lord Ilay’s desk.
    She and Rosie could manage for a time with the money she’d been pilfering from Ilay’s desk for months in anticipation of her escape. ’Twas enough to get them away at least to Belfast. Or perhaps even to America, where no one would know them.
    Maura could not waste any time thinking about what they would do then. She knew her money would not last forever, and Rosie was too frail to work. Somehow she would figure a way to support them. Marriage to Baron Kildary was out of the question. And asking her brother Aiden for help was a dodgy proposition at best. He was as likely to confine them in his house and send for their father as he was to give them shelter and listen to reason.
    Her bag was packed and she was more than ready to start on her hike toward Loch Camerochlan. But she could not leave yet, not while the highlanders were still about.
    She looked down at her map again and wondered if Laird MacMillan’s map had anything to do with Argyll’s gold. What if he had the missing piece?
    Maura wrung her hands together. A cache of gold would solve her problems. With only a few handfuls of gold coin, she could take Rosie to America and buy a house somewhere, and their father would never find them.
    But she needed to figure out where to look for the treasure before she began making grandiose plans.
    D ugan took a moment to compose himself.
    It had taken every bit of discipline he possessed to let Lady Maura go, and even now he was as hard as the claymore in his belt.
    He did not know when he’d ever wanted a woman more. She possessed a compelling combination of strength and vulnerability, and he found himself wanting to protect and care for her.
    After he bedded her, of course. Even now, the desire to broach her bedchamber bedeviled him. And yet he knew he could not. She was no strumpet. He’d tasted inexperience as well as passion in her kiss.
    Dugan swore under his breath. He would not seduce an innocent. Besides, there was no time for any sort of dalliance, especially not with a woman who was accompanied by a troop of Sassenach soldiers.
    Aye, the woman was trouble.
    He finally returned to the sitting room to find Lachann studying the map. He glanced up. “What is it?”
    â€œNaught.” Was his state of arousal so transparent? “One of the guests stepped outside. We . . . spoke for a few minutes, that’s all.”
    Lachann’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Dugan sat down and turned the maps to see them better. He found that the markings were just the same as before. Unhelpful.
    â€œI don’t know what you can possibly be thinking, Dugan. I don’t see how this bloody puzzle helps us.”
    â€œThe man who gave the scrap of map to Grandfather,” Dugan said quietly, “was a dying Frenchman.”
    â€œWhere? In Perth, I suppose?”
    â€œAye,” Dugan said, scrubbing one hand across his face. He suddenly felt exhausted. During the uprising two