Free Border Lord by Arnette Lamb Page A

to cuddle up with on a warm winter's night, or a man to give you bairns."
    She leaned back, bringing her thighs in contact with his. "You're bold."
    If she got any closer, she'd redefine her opinion of boldness. His confidence soared; he
could
play the rogue. "I
am
right about you, but doona take umbrage. I'm country-bred and have little knowledge of courtly manners and such."
    "Are you a farmer?"
    "Aye." Nonsense popped into his mind. "I've a pig farm," he said, putting a note of pride in his voice.
    "I thought pigs lived in a sty."
    Lord, she missed nothing. Delving deeper into his bag of fiction, Duncan said, "What do you know about swine?"
    "Little. Does your wife mind living on a pig farm?"
    "I've not found the lass who'd have me—or my pigs."
    "Somehow I doubt that."
    "You flatter me."
    "'Twas not my intention. I merely thought you a forthright man."
    Now he was on even ground. "I've been known to pursue a quest with a certain amount of vigor."
    Her hand stilled. "Are you pursuing someone here at Kildalton? A maid, perhaps."
    With absolute confidence in her inability to understand innuendo, he said, "Not in the castle proper."
    "Then why are you here?" she asked.
    "Ah. A woman who doesna mince words," he said. "How delightful and rare."
    "A man who minces around questions," she murmured. "How interesting and suspicious."
    "Mince?" he said defensively. "I'm standing in a secluded garden, a beautiful woman snug in my arms, and she asks me what I'm doing."
    "Ha! I could be as ugly as a plucked goose and you wouldn't know it. 'Tis too dark to see."
    "Aye, 'tis too dark now, but I saw you today near Hadrian's Wall."
    She stepped out of his embrace. "I didn't see you."
    He felt like a dancing master, skirting a lie. "I was watching you through a spyglass. Even from a distance your hair blazes like a fire on a dark moor."
    "Very poetic, Sir Ian."
    With disarming scrutiny, she studied him. Unease tiptoed up his spine. Wait. She didn't know that he wore the wigs and the scarf to hide his fair hair. Or that he darkened his eyebrows and side whiskers with lampblack. The brim of the hat obscured his eyes. His friend Adrienne hadn't recognized him. The stranger Miriam MacDonald wouldn't either. Relief cooled his skin. "Do you favor poets, lassie?"
    "Aye. You're very tall." The smile in her voice said she liked that aspect of him, too. Faint moonlight cast her in a golden glow. "I don't recognize your tartan. What's your clan?"
    Her regal nose lent her a lofty air. A result, he thought morosely, from poking it into everyone's business. She could scour the clans of Scotland and never find a family to claim the unique plaid of the Border Lord, for the weaver had designed it especially for Duncan. He hoped the mystery of it bedeviled the wits from her. She was too intelligent by half. "I doona think anyone knows all of the tartans."
    "I do. I have a very good memory."
    "Come sit with me." He led her to a bench near the fountain.
    Once seated, she said, "Why were you sneaking out of Kildalton Castle?"
    As Duncan considered his answer, a pleasant realization occurred to him. In a way he was meeting her for the first time. "I wasna sneaking. I was visiting the earl."
    She stiffened and folded her hands in her lap. "Are you his friend?"
    So casual was the question, she could have been asking directions to the Great North Road. But her physical withdrawal told a different tale.
    "Duncan's a pleasant enough fellow," he said cautiously. "A bit odd, though, for a laird. Do you know him well?"
    "Apparently not well enough, for he's never mentioned you."
    She'd answered, but told him nothing. If she were as clever in the physical aspects of love as she was with words, a true rogue would chain her to his bed. The image made him feel very much the cavalier. "I'm a boor of a fellow, and I doona care for fishing."
    "Then why are you here? Did you bring him the peacocks?"
    Taken off guard, Duncan threw back his head and laughed.
    She snapped her