A Highland Folly by Jo Ann Ferguson Read Free Book Online

mother might have had a hidden sense of humor. Mayhap someone else had selected them, adding to the puzzles that surrounded Anice.
    She looked up at the castle that was falling into complete ruin. Imagining her mother here was impossible. Her father had brought his new wife here from her home near the Borders for only one visit. It had been enough to persuade her mother never to return, even when she was widowed with a small baby. Instead, she had turned her back on her husband’s family and her own and explored the world.
    â€œI wish I knew why,” Anice said aloud. “This is such a beautiful place. Even amid all the beautiful places I have traveled with Mother, this is one of the loveliest.” Glancing down at the sparkle of the sunshine on the river, she sighed. “Is that why so many in the family are against the road being built here? Do they think it will change Killiebige?”
    â€œDo you always carry a gun to a graveyard?”
    At the laugh that followed the question, Anice jumped to her feet and whirled. She stared at Lucais MacFarlane, who had his arms folded on the half-open gate. In the past two days, she had persuaded herself that she was mistaken about her memory of the man who had carried her down the hill. She had been certain that his eyes could not be as blue as a Pacific lagoon or that his hair glistened like polished ebony. Her doubts had been wrong, for her recollections had been right.
    â€œI was bringing your gun back to you,” she said, hoping he did not take note of her trembling voice. Or, if he did, he would believe that he had frightened her by sneaking up on her when she was deep in thought. Picking up the gun, she held it out to him. “I stopped to visit my grandmother’s grave on the way to the road camp.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to interrupt.”
    â€œYou didn’t.” In spite of herself, she smiled as she sat on the low wall. “The conversation here was quite one-sided.”
    He took the gun and leaned it back against the wall, but on the far side of the gate. “For a Scot, you have a very prosaic view. Most Scots would believe that a ghostie or two might be lurking about to offer a bit of otherworldly advice.”
    â€œScots aren’t the only ones who think there are spirits of the departed surrounding them. I have seen that in every country I have visited.”
    Sitting beside her on the wall, he smiled. “I understand you have traveled even farther than you intimated previously.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œFolks like to talk about the Kinlochs, even to the crew from the road camp, when they are enjoying a pint or two or some whisky. And you should know that they like to talk about you most of all.”
    â€œAnd what do they say?”
    â€œAbout the Kinlochs?” His eyes twinkled. “Or about you?”
    Knowing that she should not have asked that question, Anice said, “I am glad you happened by. My cousin Parlan was concerned about me going to the road camp alone when there are so many rough men there.”
    â€œAnd he is right to worry.”
    â€œHe is?” She was amazed that Lucais would own to even one of the rumors that Parlan had repeated with ever-increasing delight that morning.
    â€œYes.” He leaned his hand on the wall behind her and slanted toward her. “For someone who has traveled as far as you are reputed to have, you are too trusting, my lady. I am sure your cousin would be outraged to discover you here with me, when your only watchdog is your grandmother’s ghost.”
    â€œThere are many Kinlochs buried here.”
    â€œA collection of ghosts would still be, in your cousin’s estimation, a very poor chaperon.”
    â€œMayhap you are right.” She came to her feet. “I should bid you adieu, Mr. MacFarlane.”
    â€œI thought you were willing to call me Lucais now.”
    â€œYou call me ‘my lady,’ so it would seem