Snowy Night with a Highlander by Julia London Read Free Book Online Page A

you’ve still a way to go to Blackwood.” She smiled at Fiona as she stuffed more hay into the pail. “He wouldna even have a bite, if you can believe it, butI’m no stranger to stubborn men, no I’m no’. I insisted he take some food along.”
    “How very kind of you.”
    “A big man like that canna work and see after you on an empty belly, can he, now?”
    Apparently, she’d not be traveling on an empty belly, either. The food was delicious; Fiona ate until she was quite stuffed.
    Mrs. Dillingham tested the heft of the pail. “There we are,” she said, apparently satisfied with her work, and as Fiona stood, she handed the pail to her. “Here you are, milady. A bit of food for your journey.”
    “For me?” Fiona asked, surprised. “How very kind, Mrs. Dillingham. Thank you. I’ve some coins in my portmanteau—”
    “No, no, your man has paid for it.”
    “He did?” she said, startled.
    “He was right generous when it came to your lodging, milady. Said I was to take proper care of you.” She smiled. “Take it, then, and Godspeed.”
    Fiona took it. And when she walked outside the little cottage into a gray day, her man, as Mrs. Dillingham had put it, was standing at the fence, waiting for her. “Good day, sir!” Mrs. Dillingham called out to him. He nodded in response.
    Fiona walked across the yard to him, her portmanteau in one hand, the pail of food in the other. “Good morning,” she said.
    He hardly spared her a glance as he took the portmanteau from her hand and placed it carefully onto his bad hand. “Morning,” he responded as he took the pail from her. “Shall we?”
    “Yes.” She turned and waved to Mrs. Dillingham, thenfollowed Mr. Duncan up the road. Mr. Duncan kept his gaze on the road, but Fiona looked curiously at him. “Mrs. Dillingham said you paid for my keep.”
    “Aye.”
    “Why?” she asked. “I can pay my way,” she said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
    “We’ll settle at the end of the journey.”
    “Will we indeed? You are quite free with your commands, Mr. Duncan. Funny, I did no’ think you looked like a Duncan when first we met, but now I think I am beginning to see it.”
    That earned her a curious glance. “Pardon?”
    “I did no’ think a Duncan should be quite as tall as you,” she said, eyeing his torso. Or as broad. “Or as taciturn,” she said. “I thought a Duncan would be a bit of a prattler. A rooster.”
    “ Rooster? ”
    “Mmm,” she said, looking at him studiously. “ Rooster . You have a bit of it in you.”
    His gaze took her in, from the top of her hood to her hem, before he opened the gate on the wagon. For the first time since they had begun this journey—which seemed many days ago instead of only one—he really looked at her, his gaze lingering a little too long on her figure, and then rising slowly again to her eyes.
    The way he looked at her was alarmingly arousing. Her heart began to beat a little wildly, the pace picking up as he leaned toward her. For one moment of sheer insanity, Fiona thought he meant to kiss her.
    But he handed the pail of food to her. “So that you willna perish,” he added unnecessarily.
    Surprisingly disappointed, Fiona smiled coyly and tookthe pail from him, sliding it onto the back of the wagon. Mr. Duncan leaned down, cupping his good hand, and once again, she put her foot into it and allowed him to push her up as if she were nothing more than the pail of food. He watched her move to the front of the wagon—the brazier was full and warm, she noted—then put her portmanteau just inside the wagon’s gate. He closed the gate, then paused to look at her again. She thought he would speak; but without a word, he disappeared. A moment later, the wagon dipped to one side as he climbed up on the bench. A moment or two after that, the wagon lurched forward.
    Fiona tried to keep her thoughts from the mysterious Mr. Duncan, but it was an exercise in futility. This was what she deserved from playing so