His Judas Bride by Shehanne Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

right about that. The kindness, if maybe she had been trying to run earlier, would have been to let her.
    “Fine, fine.” He set the jug down on the table.
    Anyway there was sure to be a rejoinder. Christ only knew what they taught in Edinburgh, but the baggage seemed even less familiar with the concept of a woman’s place than he was himself. It was only a case of waiting.
    He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Come here.”
    “I beg your—”
    He beckoned Fallon, before the chit thought he meant her and next got awkward about that. As if he’d lift her onto the table. Anyway why should he hurry away from Fallon just because Miss High-and-Mighty couldn’t contain herself? As it was he was lucky to call by once a week. It might change with this marriage. All that still remained to be seen. He still had his doubts. Certainly if she tried speaking to the turd like this, flaunting herself in that scrappy damned dress too, Lochalpin would have another war on its hands in two seconds flat. Another mess for him to sort out.
    He pointed at his cheek. “Put it there. Missy has a kiss for her favorite sweetheart, doesn’t she?”
    Fallon shrieked with laughter, cups and cutlery flying as she tried rolling away across the tabletop. As always he grabbed hold of her ankles. Still no rejoinder, except a stern one from Meg when the jug went over, ale frothing everywhere. Why was that? He couldn’t quite fathom it. Was she even looking? He pulled Fallon down onto his knee, wrapping his arms around her.
    “No, Daddy.” Fallon’s laughter was deafening. Certainly in his ears.
    “What’s this you’re meaning , No, Daddy? ”
    “Dinnae tickle. Dinnae tickle me.” Her squirming was uncontrollable, infectious.
    “Is there some other sweetheart you’re giving your kisses to? Hmm? Because I’ll find out. I’m warning you. And then, then I’m going—”
    “Please, sir, if you don’t mind, that is what I would like to do. Go.” The baggage’s voice cut like a blade all the way across the bustling room, silencing it, silencing Fallon. Him too, to some extent. “I’m very keen to meet my betrothed.”
    Once again she told him what to do. Well, he wasn’t having it. Or her thinking she could face him up as she had yesterday. Hard as a pair of crisp new leather boots. Hard as…he tried not to dishonor Morven’s memory thinking what else the damned piece had been hard as. Although, by Christ, it was something that hadn’t been hard often enough in the last five years.
    He jerked his chin up and wished he hadn’t. She hadn’t said something else like If you’re finished making a fool of yourself with that child ,but had been quite amenable—for her anyway.She wasappealing to him, standing there gazing at the floor, her hands like hopeless fists, her slender throat fluttering like a trapped bird. When he hadn’t got her where he wanted in front of his men, he didn’t need this, did he? To think he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth about the half hour.
    He huffed out a breath. But he had, hadn’t he? So, now that he had, in front of his men too… He nodded across the table at the Murdies.
    “Daddy’s got to go, sweetheart. Take the pretty lady to see Uncle…” He hesitated over the word Turdygub. That would be to bring further complaint from Meg down on his head in an already difficult situation. A situation where he was now going to have to take the chit to Turdygub. “…Ewen up at the castle. You be good. No more swearing. You promise me? Hmm?”
    Fallon wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, Daddy.”
    “Because, sweetheart, if you’re not—”
    He ruffled her hair before setting her down. His boots seemed to echo for an eternity across the flagstones, past the stag heads watching dully from their mounts on the draped walls, the pewter shining on the dresser.
    The thing was, despite all he’d said he hadn’t expected her to march in here and call him out in front of his men. So now he