Border Bride by Arnette Lamb Read Free Book Online Page B

I'm disappointed that you perpetuate the institution of slavery. I had expected more humanity from you."
    Her eyes narrowed, and she knotted her fists so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. "I detest slavery, and anyone who says differently is a miserable liar. Elanna is a freedwoman."
    Malcolm had misinterpreted Charles's vague reference to Alpin causing trouble over the slaves in Barbados. If she was to be believed, she and Charles had differed on the slavery issue. Malcolm realized he'd gotten their positions crosswise; Charles was the one who had favored slavery.
    Well, Malcolm decided, at least Alpin had one redeeming quality. "Did you persuade Charles to free her?"
    Again, her eyes met his. "Yes. In lieu of several years' salary as his housekeeper. Elanna will earn her way."
    Knowing a slave could sell for as much as twelve hundred pounds, Malcolm figured Charles was either very foolish or very malleable. But neither rang true, for according to the records and the bank drafts the lawyer Codrington regularly sent to Malcolm, the plantation had made a handsome profit every year for the past decade. The last harvest proved particularly fruitful; Malcolm had used the proceeds to build a new bridge over the river Tyne. "Charles was a generous guardian."
    "I'm a very good housekeeper." Her grin gave him a peek at her dimples. "I trust you'll pay me accordingly."
    Malcolm felt he had little choice in the matter, and yet the idea of paying her, the woman who had made his life miserable, rankled. He was a Scotsman, though, and knew how to be thrifty. "I'll pay you fifty pounds a year."
    "Two hundred," she said, as serious as a tinker with only one skillet in his wagon. "Plus a suitable wardrobe."
    He took the few steps that separated them. Towering over her, he said, "One hundred."
    Seemingly unperturbed, she said, "One fifty and any essentials I may require. The wardrobe, of course. Sundays for my own and a free week each year beginning on my birthday. And the stipend Charles left me."
    If she could haggle as successfully with the butcher, she might save Malcolm money. "You will pay your own maid."
    "Of course. I always have."
    "Done." He extended his hand.
    She took it, her long, slender fingers curling around his. He stared at her wrist, her elbow, and her arm, and noticed again the sun-washed color of her skin. He thought of her breasts and pictured them milky white, a stunning contrast to the rest of her. Stark white sheets would be a perfect foil for her chestnut hair and lavender eyes.
    "What are you thinking, Malcolm? That you've made a poor bargain?"
    He shook off the erotic images and cursed himself for having lustful thoughts of Alpin MacKay. "Nay," he said. "I'm thinking that you have."
    Pulling her hand free, she hopped down from the window seat. "I never make poor bargains. Now tell me what you like to eat, when you like to eat it, and how many people I must feed."
    For the next hour Alpin wielded a quill as he rattled off an extensive list of delicacies even the king's own steward would have been hard-pressed to provide. So transparent was Malcolm's attempt at intimidation, she wondered if he didn't suspect her motives or honestly dislike her. But she'd done no more than pull a few childish pranks when they were young. Surely he'd forgotten and forgiven those. He'd merely grown into an unhappy, beleaguered man who couldn't even have fun at a carnival. He couldn't know she planned to marry him and demand Paradise as her wedding gift. Once the papers were signed, she'd leave the Borders behind and take ship home.
    "You'll supervise the housemaids, make certain my bed is made each morning and my shirts and tartans cared for properly."
    He was, she decided, full of himself. Oh, he cut a fine figure, slouched comfortably in a wing chair, his chin resting in his palm. Still wearing the perfectly pleated kilt, he crossed his well-muscled legs and oozed enough charm to set a dozen simpering females to swooning. More than