Virtue and Valor: Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series by Collette Cameron Read Free Book Online Page B

skirmishes.”
    “Hell. Now you’ve made a mull of it,” Sethwick muttered with a severe shake of his head. “I thought you had more sense than that, numbskull.”
    Yancy shot him a curious glance.
    “I shall leave you to muddle your way out of this sticky mess, my friend.” With a wave of his hand, Sethwick ambled along the hallway, calling, “Don’t dawdle too long. I’m ravenous. We shall eat without you.”
    Isobel’s regal features had settled into an icy mask of disdain. No hint of the adoration Yancy had once seen in her magnificent aqua eyes remained.
    Devil it. He had made a grievous error.
    She pursed her lips then tilted her head, much like an inquisitive sparrow. “Are you a wagering man, Lord Ramsbury?”
    Though politely worded, and her tone the epitome of a gently-bred woman, the question rang rapier sharp, and he winced imperceptibly.
    He met her gaze, accepting the challenge in the depth of her eyes. This could prove interesting.
    “It depends, I suppose, Miss Ferguson, on the wager.” He took her measure. “And who I bet against.”
    Her lips formed a small arc belying her barbed words. “Why don’t you pick something, anything, you are confident your superior masculinity would result in an easy win against the fairer sex.”
    A stab of disquiet pierced him. What was she about?
    She fluttered a dainty hand in the air.
    “Cards. Chess. Fencing. Riding. Archery. Hunting. Fishing. Reading. Mathematics. Physics. Interpreting Socrates or Aristotle’s work from the original Greek. Name it .”
    Yancy couldn’t rip his gaze from her. Lord, but she was magnificent when enraged. Her eyes fairly spewed azure sparks. Could she really read Greek? Once more, he eyed her from her drooping hair to her scuffed boots.
    Most intriguing .
    He tried gauging her thoughts. Why was she so peeved?
    Perhaps she did have a lover, and now she wouldn’t be able to keep their clandestine appointments.
    Annoyance pricked along his spine.
    That would explain her adamant denial in the stable. Most inconvenient and wholly disappointing, if true. He would have to search elsewhere for his countess. He’d had his share of fast women warm his sheets and his blood, but taking one to wife invited cuckolding.
    Isobel raised a perfectly arched brow and continued tapping the toe of one small foot on the stairs. “Well, my lord?”
    Chess ?
    Yes, that might do.
    He hadn’t been beaten since his days at Eton. In fact, he rarely found anyone who’d partner him. Naturally, he would be a gentleman and let her win the first game or two. Trouncing her soundly at the onset wouldn’t further his suit.
    Not that he stood much chance of winning her over after her blunt declaration in the stables. However, he wasn’t ready to give up the race quite yet.
    What was that verse his mother used to quote? Something nonsensical from the Bible about the race not being to the swift or the battle to the strong, wasn’t it?
    A more subtle approach might prove more successful with Isobel. That remark he’d made about not worrying her pretty head had really worked her into a froth.
    Yes, chess. That ought to appease her.
    She continued to gaze at him expectantly.
    Yancy flashed her his most charming smile, the one that generally caused ladies to flush or bat their eyelashes in seductive invitation.
    Isobel, however, simply leveled him a bland stare.
    “My lord?” Her tone indicated anything but respect and deference.
    “I would be honored if you joined me in a game of chess, Miss Ferguson.”
    Her pretty lips curled into a wide smile. “I had rather hoped you’d pick fencing. I would have enjoyed having a go at you with my sabre.”
    “You fence?” A vision of her derriere in snug, white breeches sprang to mind. He really had become a lecher.
    “After my parents allowed Adaira to learn, Seonaid and I insisted we have the same opportunity.” She turned and climbed the risers. The sway of her hips, even underneath the thick cloak,