Highland Heiress by Margaret Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

off. How did you put it? Ah, yes—she breached a verbal contract. And I’ve got the best solicitor in Scotland and England, too, to represent me.”
    This was no time to prevaricate. “I’m flattered byyour compliments, Robbie, but she feels that given some of your less-than-exemplary behavior, a judge will be sympathetic to her.”
    Robbie laughed, although not with his usual merry mirth. This laugh was cold and harsh and ugly. “A female judge might take her side, but since there are no lady judges and never will be, I’ll win and Moira will have to pay. And then I…”
    He didn’t finish as he went to what looked like a row of books, pulled one half out of its slot, and revealed another liquor cabinet.
    Though Gordon didn’t think Robbie should have another drink, that wasn’t what bothered him most now. “And then you…what?”
    â€œAnd then I’ll be finished with her once and for all.”
    There was more to it than that, or Robbie wouldn’t be suing her. He would simply leave her alone. And he’d sounded almost…desperate.
    â€œYou need the money!” Gordon blurted as an explanation for that desperation burst into his mind.
    â€œNo. That is, not exactly,” Robbie said, blushing as he poured some whiskey from a Waterford decanter into a crystal glass that looked nearly as dusty as the books.
    Did the man have alcohol squirreled away in every room of his house? Was that where his money was going?
    But the McStuarts had been rich for generations, with more wealth than any one man could possibly drink away.
    â€œThe money would come in handy, that’s all,” Robbiesaid as the distinct scent of whiskey reached Gordon’s nostrils. “I have a few debts I’d like to get rid of sooner rather than later.
    â€œBesides, it’s the principle of the thing. She broke a contract and she ought to pay a penalty,” he finished before he downed his whiskey in a gulp.
    â€œWas that why you were going to marry her? Because her father is rich?” Gordon asked, hoping he was wrong. Silently praying that he was.
    â€œOf course not!” Robbie retorted as he whirled around, his chest heaving with what Gordon believed—to his relief—was genuine dismay. “I loved her! You saw her—you’ve seen how beautiful she is. She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
    â€œAye, very beautiful,” Gordon agreed. And strong willed. And resolute. And brave and passionate and desirable.
    â€œWho wouldn’t fall in love with a woman like her? Well, maybe you wouldn’t,” he amended, swinging his glass around to point at Gordon and spilling a third of its contents. As with the port bottle, Robbie ignored the spill, even though the carpet had to be worth several thousand pounds. “You’re far too serious and studious to fall in love, I think. Not for Gordo the insanity of Eros, eh?”
    Gordon silently begged to differ. He’d been in love—or thought he was—so he knew exactly what Robbie was talking about. “But I was in love,” his friend continued with a dramatic flourish as, still holding the glass, he pointed to his own chest.
    His declaration might have fooled somebody who didn’t know Robbie well, but Gordon did, and what he saw beneath the colorful words and dramatic gestures was need. Not for Lady Moira, or her love, or even happiness, but money—and badly.
    As if to prove his observation, Robbie muttered half under his breath, “It was just a bonus that her father was rich and could help me with some financial reversals I’ve suffered recently.”
    Disappointment, dismay, disgust—Gordon felt them all. And something else. Something that felt like…liberation.
    Suddenly Robbie threw his glass at the hearth, shattering it into a thousand little shards. “Don’t look at me like that, Gordo! Not you! It was bad enough that she looked