The Scottish Bride by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online

laughed at her father and told him not to worry, she would see to things. Mary Rose knew what that meant: if the English baron was at all to her liking, Donnatella would marry him. At least that was possible. The Edinburgh solicitor Donald MacCray had told them that the new baron was a widower. How sad, she thought, that such a young man had already lost his wife.
    The baron appeared tall and lean from Mary Rose’s vantage point, and he had light, thick hair that a slight morning breeze was ruffling on his brow. He was leading a big bay gelding. She watched him swing ever sogracefully onto his horse’s back, straighten in the saddle, and look around him. Then he threw back his head and breathed in very deeply. She heard him say something to his horse, like “Big Fellow,” which was surely an odd name.
    She wished she could see him up close, but of course she couldn’t. Nor would he wish to see her anywhere near him, since she was the Local Embarrassment. She watched him ride toward Barthwick Village, just to the south, watched him until he rounded Bleaker’s Bluff, which rose up a good fifty feet, and was lost to her sight.
    She turned and began her trek through the pine forest back toward Vallance Manor. She had just cleared the trees when she heard horse’s hooves coming toward her. She ducked behind a particularly fat pine tree.
    But she wasn’t fast enough. The horse stopped close by. She heard it blowing, heard a man say, “Easy now, Barker.” There was no help for it. She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t about to race back into the forest and hide among the trees.
    Mary Rose straightened her skirts and came out from behind the pine tree. The sun was bright overhead, everything shone, the greens were utterly green, the wild grass lush, thick, vivid. The storm from the previous night had washed everything to a high shine.
    â€œAh,” he said, striding toward her, “I thought I saw you come this way, Mary Rose. You always liked watching from the forest, hiding away so you could see but not be seen.”
    â€œHello, Erickson,” she said, fear and dislike blending to make her voice very cold. “I just saw the new Baron Barthwick ride from the manor.”
    â€œOf course he didn’t see you, did he?”
    â€œI can’t imagine that he would be interested in seeing me,” she said, and took a step sideways.
    He frowned down at her, tapping his riding crop against his boot, and patted Barker’s neck when he shied a bit. “No, don’t try to run away from me, Mary Rose. Don’t be afraid. I just want to talk to you.”
    â€œHow is your mother?” Mary Rose asked.
    He frowned, hit his riding crop again against his boot. “She is as she always is. I don’t want to talk about my mother, Mary Rose.”
    â€œDo you think the new baron will have a party?”
    â€œI don’t care about the bloody new baron. I want to talk to you.” But he only looked at her, didn’t say a thing. Before she could draw another breath, he’d grabbed her, pulled her tightly against him, and kissed her—her ear, her cheek, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back so he could have her mouth. She struggled, but it didn’t matter. Erickson was much larger than she, and he was holding her much too tightly. She finally managed to stomp hard on his right foot. She felt his jerk of pain, but then his mouth was on hers again, and he was trying to thrust his tongue between her lips. “No,” she said, and then his tongue was inside. She bit him hard.
    His head jerked up and he cursed, then shook her. “Why did you do that? Damn you, why?”
    His hold loosened, and she managed to jerk free of him. She didn’t pause an instant, just raised her skirts above her knees and ran as fast as she could. She heard him mount his horse, knew he could ride her down in just seconds. No choice. She ran back