Journey to Bliss (Saskatchewan Saga Book #3) by Ruth Glover Read Free Book Online

young laird can think seriously of a serving girl or maid. Lucian knows that; he knows his place, all right. Just keep out of his way. And if you can’t—” Mrs. Case shrugged and left her sentence unfinished.
    Later in the day Anne was sent to Binkiebrae by Mrs. Case, almost coming face-to-face with Tierney. Having been adjured to say only that she had tripped and fallen and hurt herself, and knowing she could not lie to Tierney, Anne had hastened on her way, heart beating hard and sobs near the surface. Even so, Tierney suspected, Anne knew that.
    The second confrontation with Lucian took place in one of the upstairs bedrooms, not Lucian’s. Anne had been careful not to enter his room whenever he was in it. Laying a fire in one of the guest rooms, she heard the door open and close behind her. Turning her head she saw Lucian leaning against the door, a triumphant smile on his face.
    “Think you’re smart, don’t you, slipping around, avoiding me. Well, I knew you couldn’t do it forever. And here you are! And on your knees! Perfect, just perfect. Before you get up, Fanny , apologize for your rudeness the other day and I might, Ijust might, let you get away with it. In fact, I promise I will—if you ask me properly. Now what do you say, Fanny? ”
    Anne never knew what prompted her; she would never understand where she got her courage. But her brain, icily calm, seemed to put words into her mouth, deliberate words, coldly spoken.
    “I told you me name is Anne.”
    The words seemed innocent enough, but they both knew she was insisting on her independence. No matter his anger, she stubbornly insisted on her right to be her own person.
    About to rise from her knees, she was startled when Lucian leaped across the room, bent, and savagely took her by the throat, pressing cruelly, while his face was thrust into hers.
    “Who cares what your name is, you stupid jade! It’s your position that counts, and you’ve got the proper one—on your knees! Don’t you know I have the right to treat you like the baggage you are?”
    Lucian’s hands, slim as a woman’s, had remarkable strength. In the awkward position of kneeling, Anne had no leverage, nothing in her favor for breaking free. Choking, pulling at his hands, the best she could do was scratch, which she did, raking great gouges into Lucian’s flesh. Finally, with a curse, he let go, throwing her sideways and down, so that she lay, gulping great gasps of air into her lungs, unable for the moment to so much as get to her feet.
    Where it all might have ended is a question, but there came a tap on the door that the young man had cannily locked behind him. Lucian’s mother, Mrs. MacDermott herself, called out in low but carrying tones, “Lucian, are you in there? Come out, dear. Your guests are waiting, and the carriage is ready. Lucian?”
    “Coming, Mother.” Lucian’s voice was sweetly obedient, and the smile had returned to his face. Just that sweetly, just that smilingly, he kicked the recumbent figure lying prone on the rug at his feet, stepped to the door, turned, looked down, and said gravely, “Good little girls have nice things happen tothem. Keep that in mind, Fanny. Don’t forget it again; be a good girl, and you still may have nice things happen to you.”
    That Sunday, at kirk, Anne had spoken the enigmatic word that she knew would bring Tierney to see her: “Eggs,” she had whispered. She knew her friend would see through the small subterfuge and respond.
    But before that moment arrived, Pauly came into the house with a battered face.
    “Pauly!” Anne cried, appalled, reaching a hand toward her brother.
    “Leave me be!” Pauly half sobbed. “Ye’ve done enough a’ready!”
    “Me? What’ve I done?”
    “Don’t ye know that that scum, Lucian, can do whatever he wants, and we’ve no rights of our own? Jist know this—me and Da and Sam, we’re payin’ for yer almighty independence! Ye might as well give in and git it over and put behind