The Magnificent Rogue by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online

start early tomorrow morning.”
    Gavin looked critically at the girl’s face. “It may be more than one day. She doesn’t look well. Are you sure she doesn’t need a physician?”
    “She has no broken bones, and she woke for a moment on the trail.” Robert took off her muddy slippers and soggy stockings and tossed them on the floor. “Let’s hope she’s resilient.”
    Gavin was still staring at Kate’s face. “Do you think she looks like Mary Stuart?”
    “How do I know? I’ve never seen Mary.”
    “I saw a painting once, and we’ve both heard her described.…” His gaze went over the small nose, the mouth with its fuller lower lip, the arched brows. “What color are her eyes?”
    Golden-brown eyes staring up at him without fear
.
    “Brown.”
    “Well, that’s the same, but her features have no regularity. She’s certainly not as comely as Mary.”
    “Maybe she takes after her father. Shrewsbury is noAdonis.” Where the hell was that woman with the hot water? The girl’s feet were ice cold.
    “Maybe.” Gavin’s eyes began to twinkle. “I was hoping for something better for you. However, the lass is scarce more than a child. Perhaps she’ll improve with age. I’d hate to have you saddled with an ugly wife.”
    Robert gave him a quelling glance. “Go back downstairs and sit by the fire.”
    “You’d send me back to that dragon?” He sighed and moved toward the door. “Very well.”
    “And keep Landfield from coming up here,” Robert called.
    “It’s doubtful he would try to hurt her while you’re here,” Gavin said as he pulled the door closed.
    That wasn’t what Robert was worried about. He wasn’t certain if he could keep himself from skewering the man if he came within striking distance. He knew the anger he was feeling was all out of proportion. Though the punishment appeared extreme, custom gave guardians the full right to punish their wards in any way they saw fit. The girl was not hurt badly, and she was nothing to him.
    No, not nothing. She was going to be his wife. He had thought of her only as the “girl,” the albatross Elizabeth was trying to fasten permanently around his neck. Now, suddenly, this scrawny bit of flotsam was a person and soon to be his possession. It did not seem to matter that he intended that possession to be of the most temporary nature.
    He reached out and gently brushed a strand of mud-coated hair from the girl’s cheek.
    And, by God, no one damaged something that belonged to him.
    Kate slowly opened her lids to see a man’s face only inches from her own. Dark eyes … hollow cheeks, well-shaped lips that made her want to reach up andtrace their curve. How odd, when she had never wanted to touch any man before …
    Safety. Well-being. Home.
    The overwhelming impression came out of nowhere but was not unfamiliar. Though she could not recall where she had seen this face, she could remember a warm sense of security connected with it. Strange, when he did not appear either secure or tame now that she studied him.
    He reminded her of one of the wild Gypsy folk who occasionally traveled through the village, but his clothing was much too fine. The large round pendant hanging from a heavy gold chain shimmered against the black velvet of his doublet, and the short cape he wore was simple but elegant.
    “Who …?” Her voice was so thin, she could scarcely hear it herself. She tried again. “Who are you?”
    “Robert MacDarren.” His deep voice held a hint of a Scots brogue. “How do you feel?”
    “Well.”
    “Liar,” he said crisply. “You’re covered from head to foot in mud, and you’re probably one big bruise.”
    The lack of gentleness in his tone jolted her to full wakefulness and immediately dispersed that feeling of contentment. She must have been mad to think this man safe when he was clearly hard, distant, and without compassion. Memory swirled back to her. The trail. He had been the man on the trail. “What are you doing here? Are