The Frost Maiden's Kiss by Claire Delacroix Read Free Book Online Page B

well. None of Ruari’s chatter, though, had prepared her for her first close look at her lady’s brother.
    If ever there had been a man wrought to tempt her, this was he. The Laird of Ravensmuir was well made and perhaps only a decade older than she. She had thought the laird would be a hardened warrior, well advanced in years. This Malcolm was young and handsome, close in age perhaps to Lady Vivienne.
    He had been laboring himself, to her surprise, clad in only his chausses and boots. She saw that his body was taut and trim, taking note of that detail before he donned his shirt. The white chemise contrasted with the golden hue of his skin, its color an indication that he had been doing such work in the sun for some weeks. Something hung around his neck, some token that snared the light for a moment before his chemise hid it from view.
    Catriona’s fingers rose to the talisman she kept hidden beneath her own chemise, struck that she should have anything in common with this man.
    He was a warrior, though, for there was a hardness in his gaze that revealed he had seen much of the world, and not all of it good. He was handsome, to be sure, though his nose had a crook in it as if it had been broken. That and the dark stubble on his chin served only to make him look more powerful and masculine, so she could not say that his appearance was marred. He looked like a man who knew what was his to claim and had no qualm in taking it.
    As alluring as he was, he terrified her, given his reputation. Catriona dared not reveal her fear, for she knew that the weak were always the first to be targeted. Instead, she summoned every vestige of strength within herself and feigned indifference.
    Catriona heard his companion declare that he was called the Hellhound, a confession that did little to make her glad to be upon his holding.
    All of this would have been more than sufficient to unsettle her, but worse, the laird eyed her with an intensity that made her heart pound. His glance fell to her belly and if anything, his expression turned more grim.
    ’Twas clear he thought her a whore.
    Catriona’s heart pounded in trepidation. She could guess what he meant to do to her, if she lingered in his hall. She knew how warriors treated whores.
    They had to go to Kinfairlie immediately!
    Catriona refused to let her step falter, even though she feared she had been chosen once again as prey. She walked to her lady and held out Euphemia, as if oblivious to the laird. His bright gaze could have been a touch, for she felt her skin prickle and her blood heat. A flush stained her cheeks, she knew it well, though there was naught she could do to dismiss it.
    “Here is my darling girl, Euphemia,” Lady Vivienne said, as if unaware of her brother’s scowl. She kissed her daughter, who nuzzled her mother’s neck and went back to sleep again.
    The laird’s expression did not soften. “Your serving woman appears close to her time,” he said tightly. “Is her spouse in your party?” His tone revealed that he knew the answer and disapproved.
    Here was the root of it. Once it was confirmed that she had no husband, Catriona knew she would be considered available for the laird’s use.
    “Catriona has no husband, Malcolm.” Lady Vivienne’s voice dropped yet lower, and Catriona appreciated her lady’s protection. “Do not make an issue of it.”
    “Do not make an issue of it?” the laird echoed, his voice rising with incredulity and anger. His green eyes flashed with fire, but his words surprised Catriona. “I will not, if you tell me who is the father of her child.”
    This mercenary showed righteous indignation? Catriona was certain she misunderstood. She dared to glance directly at him, only to find him watching her so closely that a lump rose in her throat.
    He looked to be outraged.
    Surely not on her behalf?
    “Malcolm!” Lady Vivienne scolded then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Leave it be .” Her counsel had precisely the opposite