Rebellion & In From The Cold by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

so that his fingers dug through her hair and cupped her neck.
    “No,” she managed, amazed that the denial was unsteady. When she lifted a hand in protest, he met it, palm to palm. So they stood as the new day began.
    “You tremble,” he murmured. Lightly he ran his fingers up her neck, kindling small fires. “I wondered if you would.”
    “I’ve not given you leave to touch me.”
    “I’ve not asked for leave.” He drew her closer. “Nor will I.” He brought their joined hands to his lips, dropping a soft kiss on her fingers. “Nor need I.”
    She felt the room tilt and her will drain as he lowered his head toward her. She saw only his face, then only his eyes. As if in a dream, she let her own eyes close and her lips part.
    “Serena?”
    She jerked back, color flaming into her face at the sound of her sister’s voice. Shaken, Serena gripped her hands together as Gwen stepped into the room. “You should be resting yet. You’ve only slept a few hours.”
    “It was enough. Coll?” she asked, staring toward the bed.
    “His fever’s broken.”
    “Ah, thank God.” Her hair more gold than red, curtained her face as she bent over him. In her pale blue night robe she looked very much like the angel Coll had described. “He sleeps well, and should for a few hours yet.” She glanced up to smile at her sister and saw Brigham by the window. “Lord Ashburn! Have you not slept?”
    “He was about to retire.” Serena moved briskly to her sister’s side.
    “You need rest.” Gwen’s face puckered into a frown as she thought of his shoulder. “You’ll do your wound no good else.”
    “He does well enough,” Serena said impatiently.
    “For your concern, I thank you.” Brigham bowed pointedly to Gwen. “As it appears I can be of no further use, I will seek my bed.” His gaze swept down Serena and up again. Beside her sister she, too, looked like an angel. An avenging one. “Your servant, madam.”
    Gwen smiled after him as he strode out, her young heart fluttering a bit at the sight of his bare chest and arms. “So handsome,” she sighed.
    With a sniff, Serena brushed at the bodice of her robe. “For an Englishman.”
    “It was kind of him to stay with Coll.”
    Serena could still feel the determined press of his fingers on the back of her neck. “He’s not kind,” she murmured.
    “I don’t believe he’s kind at all.”

Chapter 3
    Brigham slept until the sun was high. His shoulder was stiff, but there was no pain. He supposed he owed Serena for that. His lips curved into a grim smile as he dressed. He intended to pay her back.
    After he had pulled on his breeches, he glanced at his torn riding coat. It would have to do, as he could hardly wear evening dress. Until his trunks arrived he would be roughing it. He ran a hand over his chin after shrugging into the coat. His stubble was rough and his lace far from fresh. How his valet would have cringed.
    Dear, dour Parkins had been furious at being left in London while his lord traveled to the barbarous Scottish Highlands. Parkins knew, as few did, the true purpose of the trip, but that had only made him more insistent about accompanying his master.
    Brigham tilted the shaving mirror. Parkins was loyal, he thought, but hardly competent to do battle. There was no finer—or more proper—gentleman’s gentleman in London, but Brigham hardly needed, or wanted, a valet during his stay in Glenroe.
    With a sigh, he began to strop his razor. He might not be able to do anything about the torn jacket or the drooping lace, but he could manage to shave himself.
    Once he was presentable, he made his way downstairs. Fiona was there to greet him, an apron over her simple wool gown. “Lord Ashburn, I trust you rested well.”
    “Very well, Lady MacGregor.”
    “If you’re a man such as I know, you’ll be wanting to break your fast.” With a smile, she laid a hand on his arm and began to walk. “Would you care to sit in the parlor? It’s warmer than the