The Scottish Witch by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online

the table. “I need your help, Chattan. I’ve put off asking since you have concerns of your own, but I’m desperate. I thought when I met you that here was exactly what I needed—a man who can claim any woman he wishes.”
    Harry didn’t challenge the description. It was true. Women flocked to him. They always had.
    It wasn’t vanity for him to admit that he had looks they liked. It was a statement of fact. God had blessed him with a face and form that was pleasing to the ladies. And he had used them to his own advantage—until he’d set out upon this quest.
    Now, he was beginning to wonder how he could have been so shallow. Of course, he was free of the chains of opium and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a drink. No, that was a lie. He remembered all too well and he hated himself for it.
    But he was curious why Monty thought this an asset. Monty was an avowed bachelor, or that was the impression Harry had gained.
    “What’s amiss, Monty?”
    His friend sat back in his chair. A terrier jumped into his lap. Monty absently petted its head as he said, “I need you to help me attend the Christmas Assembly.”
    “A dance?”
    Monty nodded vigorously.
    Harry shook his head slowly. “I can’t wait around for the dance, Monty. My brother’s life is at stake.”
    “The dance is in four days, Chattan. You can wait four days.”
    “I don’t remember you eager to attend any dances back when I served under your command,” Harry said. “You usually avoided them.”
    “I did,” Monty said. He pushed the dog off his lap and threw the animals another piece of meat. They yapped and snarled over it. “Not my thing.”
    “Then why must you attend this dance?” Harry asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.
    “Because she will be there.”
    “Who is she?” Harry had to ask, intrigued.
    “Lady Ariana Maclean.”
    “Maclean?” The name sounded familiar.
    “Do you not remember Black Jack Maclean?” Monty said to prod Harry’s memory.
    Harry pushed away from the table. “That sorry rascal! He was married? I pity the woman he took for a wife.”
    “I do as well,” Monty said. “Her life has not been easy.”
    “Does she know he had at least two families on the Peninsula?” Harry asked. “The man was a scoundrel. He wasn’t even a good officer. He spent most of his time as far behind the lines as possible.”
    “He was a coward,” Monty agreed. “But he was an even worse husband.”
    “To all his wives,” Harry had to quip. Everyone in the regiment knew Maclean lived with different women as man and wife. He wasn’t the only one to do so. Many soldiers did—but the practice had never set well with Harry.
    “Aye, he was bad . . . and I hate what he did to Ariana.” Now it was Monty leaning across the table. “Harry, you should meet her. She’s the loveliest female that has ever graced this earth. Since first we met, there hasn’t been a day of my life when I haven’t thought of her. Not a day that has passed when I haven’t wanted her.”
    “Why, Monty, you are in love.”
    “ Yes . Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. I love Ariana Williams.”
    “That was her maiden name?”
    “Her family lived not far from mine. I was first introduced to her when I was fourteen and she twelve.”
    “And you have loved her all this time?”
    Monty sadly nodded yes.
    Harry studied his friend in a new light. He was no fan of love. One couldn’t be given his family history. His parents had both been cold people, until his mother died and his father had gone mad over an opera dancer whom he had made his second countess. And then the curse had claimed him. His father had died soon after the marriage.
    Now Love was claiming the life of his brother.
    But Monty’s declaration was a complete puzzlement. “If you were so enamored, why didn’t you speak up before she married Black Jack?” Harry asked.
    “I tried, or I wished to do so. I’m not good with words.”
    “You are