Highlander Unmasked by Monica Mccarty Read Free Book Online Page A

her mother’s face when she noticed Meg’s gown. Meg looked down. What was wrong with orange?
    Bravely, she stood ready to face the torture. She could only imagine what nefarious schemes her mother had concocted. Finding a handsome Highlander at court—from a powerful neighboring clan nonetheless—had probably sent her into a tizzy of excited wedding preparations. But Meg could not fault her for her good intentions—or for her taste, for that matter. Rosalind Mackinnon wanted a fairy-tale marriage for her daughter, whether Meg agreed or not. And a fairy tale always included a handsome prince.
    She sighed, resigned to her fate. If it was any consolation, Alex appeared no more eager for this meeting than she. She wondered what her mother had said to get him over here. Meg almost felt sorry for him. With a lesser man, she would have. She knew what it was like to be caught up in the determined machinations of her mother’s schemes. Ever since Meg had begun in earnest her search for a husband, Rosalind Mackinnon had elevated the role of matchmaker to an art form. But she was sure Alex MacLeod could take care of himself. Even against a worthy foe like her mother.
    Meg bowed her head slightly in greeting. “Laird MacLeod.”
    Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. To put it bluntly, the man flustered her. Simply standing beside him made her pulse race. Once again, she was uncomfortably aware of the vast difference in their sizes. She had to tilt her head back just to look at him. Though, admittedly, it was worth the effort. He really was quite magnificent. And imposing. He made her conscious of her own vulnerability, but at the same time, never had she felt so safe. An odd duality to be sure.
    He answered with a curt bow. “Mistress Mackinnon.”
    Meg turned to her mother to explain. “I had the pleasure of making Laird MacLeod’s acquaintance last night.”
    Her mother’s brows lifted just a little too much to be believable. “You did?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. She turned to Alex with a soft, chiding rap of her fan on his arm. “Why, you never mentioned it.”
    Alex frowned, obviously confused. “I believe I did—”
    “I was just telling this dear boy about our misfortune on the road,” her mother interrupted blithely.
    Only her mother could call a man of at least thirty years standing well over six feet a “dear boy”—and mean it.
    “But didn’t he tell you?” Meg’s innocent smile mirrored her mother’s as her gaze shifted to Alex. “Laird MacLeod knows all the details of our attack.”
    “He does?” her mother asked, and this time her surprise was genuine.
    Meg could swear she saw a muscle clench in Alex’s jaw. Proof of his deception, perhaps? She held his gaze as she answered her mother. “Yes, I told him all about it last night.”
    His gaze sharpened, as if she’d surprised him. She might enjoy prodding him, but Meg was not fool enough to voice her beliefs to her mother.
    “Did the laird tell you that he was a soldier?”
    Amazing, Meg thought. Her mother would have made an excellent inquisitor.
    “We could use more men like him in Skye protecting our roads, especially near Dunakin, don’t you think, Meg?”
    Meg murmured something, trying to cover her acute embarrassment. Her mother was never one for subtlety. Though Meg supposed neither was she.
    Her mother continued, completely unabashed, “It’s a beautiful evening for dancing, isn’t it, my laird?”
    “Would you care to dance, my lady?”
    Meg smothered her sudden snort of laughter with a cough. The flash of dry wit was unexpected, but delightfully so. She gave him an appreciative grin, and their eyes met in a moment of shared understanding that was strangely affecting. There was more to this forbidding soldier than met the eye.
    Undeterred, her mother flashed a saucy smile. “Me?” She tapped him playfully with her fan again, as if he were a naughty schoolboy. “Oh, you’re a horrible tease. I’m much too old