The Heir of the Castle (Harlequin Romance) by Scarlet Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

his arm from her waist. She was surprised by how much she could feel the imprint of his hand on her side. She was even more surprised by how much she still wanted it to be there.
    He took a few steps over to the door, looking back across the room. There was something in his eyes, and she couldn’t tell what. Was it a memory? Happiness or sadness? No, it was something else, a wistfulness.
    ‘Angus would have loved this,’ he said under his breath as he headed out of the door.

CHAPTER FOUR
    L AURIE PUSHED OPEN the door to the kitchen. It was ridiculously early but there seemed to be a whole army of pigeons nestling outside her castle window. And the truth was she’d had the best night’s sleep in a long time. Whether it was the good Scottish clean air, or the immensely comfortably mattress, something had made her feel as if she were sleeping in a luxury hotel.
    Marion the housekeeper was not in a sunny mood. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s only six. Do you want breakfast already?’ Her face was red, her brow wrinkled and her shoulders hunched as if an elephant were sitting on top of them. And there was a tiny little red vein throbbing at the side of her eye. The woman looked as if she were about to spontaneously combust.
    Laurie crossed the huge kitchen and laid her hand on Marion’s arm. ‘No, of course not, Marion. I’m more than capable of fixing my own breakfast.’
    Totally the wrong thing to say.
    ‘That’s what I’m here for, that’s what I get paid for! You shouldn’t be in here at all.’ Her feet were crossing the kitchen in shuffling steps like a tiny little wind-up toy. ‘I’ve got sixteen people to fix breakfast for and four staff. Then there’s the morning coffee and cakes and all the veg to prepare for lunch. The butcher meat hasn’t arrived yet and someone pushed this under the kitchen door.’ She brandished a crumpled piece of paper in her hands. ‘I mean, how many allergies can one person have? What on earth am I supposed to do? And did they have these allergies last night? Because no one said a word then—and all the plates came back clean. How am I supposed to deal with that?’
    Laurie nodded her head and took the piece of paper from Marion’s hand. She blinked at the list. It was the kind of thing that got printed in national newspapers when movie stars handed them to their chefs. She glanced at the name and stifled her smile.
    She put the piece of paper on the table and tried to smooth it with her hand. ‘Why don’t you let me deal with this, Marion?’ She met the woman’s angry eyes. ‘Let’s face it, if they were this allergic to food they probably died in their bed last night after the amount they put away at dinner.’
    There it was. The tiniest glimmer of a smile. The slightest sag of her shoulders showing a bit of relief. ‘Do you think?’
    Laurie nodded. ‘Leave it with me. If there’s anything that is a true allergy and not just a preference or a request, I’ll let you know.’
    She looked around the kitchen, trying to choose her words carefully. ‘Is there anyone else to give you a hand? You’re not expecting to do all this yourself?’
    Marion bristled and Laurie winced, bracing herself for another onslaught. But it didn’t come. It was almost as if it hovered in the air for a few seconds before Marion took a deep breath and calmed herself down.
    ‘One of the girls from the village nearby is coming to help out. She should be here at seven. She’s good with breakfasts—just not so good with baking.’
    Laurie ran her hand along one of the dark wood worktops leading to the Belfast sinks. There was a huge Aga stove taking up one end of the kitchen and a gas hob with sixteen burners in the island in the middle. There was a huge range of copper-bottomed pans hanging along one wall and shining silver utensils hanging along another. At some point this kitchen had been renovated, keeping the best of the old with the most practical of the new. It was the kind of