Rexanne Becnel by The Troublemaker Read Free Book Online Page A

within her?
    She paused, one hand suspended in the air, and gnawed the side of her mouth. She seemed to be progressing from bad to worse when it came to her dealings with men. And her physical reaction to them was getting stronger and stronger. With every kiss and caress, she grew quicker and quicker to succumb.
    She let out a little groan. Was it as her brother had said, that there was a wildness in her, a recklessness that would lead her to disaster and ruin, if she did not learn to curb it?
    In that moment she feared it was so.
    Frowning, she resumed her ministrations to the placid horse, combing out forelock and mane and long sweeping tail. But as she worked, she turned her mind toward a plan to reform herself, to prevent any further decline and, she hoped, to turn herself in a more positive direction.
    She could always keep Agnes with her, she mused. That would solve the problem well enough. Unfortunately, that would be a case of the cure being worse than the affliction. No, Agnes was leaving in the morning, and good riddance to her.
    What Sarah finally decided she needed were country hours, wholesome exercise, and industry for both her hands and mind. Something to occupy her time. Surely there were numerous tasks and projects she could undertake at Byrde Manor that would fill her days and also help Mrs. Hamilton. Within the month Olivia and Neville would return with the children. If she applied herself, by that time she could prove her usefulness and strength of character, not just to everyone else, but also to herself.
    And if she should again run into that bridge-building American, Marshall MacDougal?
    With the back of her wrist Sarah pushed a wayward curl from her brow. She would have to make sure she did not run into the man. After what had just passed between them, she knew better than to trust him or herself.
    Thank goodness he was only in Scotland temporarily. He’d said he was on holiday. That meant he eventually would leave the neighborhood. Though he presented a problem to her, in truth he was only a symbol of a greater problem she still must address: no matter the venue—country or town—she invariably was drawn to the worst sort of man. No honorable gentlemen for her. Oh, no. She gravitated strictly to troublemakers.
    Marshall MacDougal would soon enough be gone from Kelso. But unless she worked on improving her own behavior, the problem he presented would return in the form of the next troublesome fellow who came along with a cheeky grin and a charming manner.
    She swept her tongue over her lips, aware of the heightened sensitivity that lingered still, and her face lowered in a frown. Perhaps she should simply avoid the company of all men, at least for a while. Keep strictly to the company of women.
    She sighed, depressed by that dreary thought. But she vowed to stick to it.
    So it was that she sat in the fragrant kitchen not a half hour later, positioning a footstool under Mrs. Hamilton’s feet. “There, now. You don’t have to move at all. Just sit here like a queen and order us about at your leisure.”
    Mrs. Hamilton gave her a shrewd look. “My, aren’t you the accommodating one today. But I know you better than that, Sarah girl. You’ve never been one to hang about the kitchen with a pocket full of embroidery.”
    Mr. Hamilton shuffled through the open door. “She don’t hang about the kitchen ’cause she’d ruther hang about the stables, smart lass.”
    Relieved by his interruption, Sarah grinned. “Of late I’ve not done enough of either of those.” Pulling up a rope-bottomed chair, she sat down at the wide, scarred table that dominated Byrde Manor’s cozy kitchen and smiled fondly at the elderly couple. “It’s so lovely to be here with the two of you. If I want, I can pretend that I’m twelve again, with no worries or cares at all.”
    “The onliest thing you need to worry over, girl, is gettin’ married,” Mr. Hamilton pronounced. “You ought to be wed.” He looked at his