Free The Highlander's Choice by Callie Hutton

note of her demeanor. Tension radiated from her body, apparent in the stiff way she held herself. Her whiskey-colored eyes moved back and forth as if composing her thoughts. Stray curls in the topknot securing her thick locks tumbled around her shoulders. She fussed with her hands in her lap, twisting and turning a knotted handkerchief.
    “What is it, lass?” he said softly.
    “Does Duncan have a mistress?” The words came out rushed and almost a whisper.
    Liam reared back, his eyes wide. Saints! Did the lass just ask him if the man about to be married today had a mistress? Aside from the fact that such information was none of the lass’s business, why would she even know of such things? Of course, in London everyone was debauching everyone else. ’Twas a known fact among his clan. And, he supposed, there were a few in Edinburg doing the same, but here in the Highlands, nay. A man had needs, and would take a willing wench if offered, but to maintain a woman for the sole purpose of sexual pleasure was not something neither he nor Duncan had ever done.
    “Why would ye ask such a thing?”
    She continued to fiddle with the handkerchief in her hands. Her heavy breaths caused her breasts to rise and fall, drawing his eyes to the delectable mounds above her bodice. God’s teeth, he wanted to run his tongue over the smooth, silky skin, move his lips down and tease her nipple until it stiffened. He shifted to accommodate the swelling in his breeches. “Well?”
    “Um, Lady Margaret is…um.” She took in a deep breath. “She is…distraught.”
    He frowned, unable to understand what the woman’s state of mind had to do with the lass’s unusual question. “Aye.”
    Sybil hopped up as if nudged from behind. “She refuses to marry Duncan until she knows if he keeps a mistress.”
    Liam stood. “What nonsense is this? The wedding is set for today. The lass has been here for two weeks. She picks today to insist on such an answer?” He shook his head in disgust. ’Twas no surprise the bride was refusing to do her duty. Another example of the English coddling their women.
    “The betrothal papers have been signed, the priest now sits in the great hall waiting for the ceremony. The castle is full to the battlements with guests. She must do her duty!”
    “Do not shout at me, my laird!” Sybil drew herself up, raising her chin. “Lady Margaret is a gently bred woman who is concerned that she is about to make an unhappy marriage.”
    Liam waved his hand. “Marriage is not meant to be happy. It is meant to provide protection and sustenance to the woman and heirs to the man.”
    Sybil jerked as if slapped. “Not meant to be happy? Of course, men would think that, since they have all the freedom in a marriage. A woman must do as he says, no matter what.” She leaned into him, pointing her wee finger at his chest. He fought to keep from laughing at the determined expression on her face. “No woman should be forced to marry a man she does not want to wed.”
    Liam opened his mouth and closed it several times, both impressed and annoyed at her railing at him. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I will send her mother to her. She will calm the lass.”
    “No. I have just now sent her mother away. She is no help at all.” She slanted him a look. “Why will you simply not answer my question?”
    He waved a dismissive hand. “’Tis naught your business.”
    “Then I take that as a yes.” She sniffed and raised her chin.
    Ach, the lass was bonny when she was mad. All fire and wrath. His lower parts tightened at the thought of all that spirit in his bed. Liam growled and grasped her by her arms. “As long as a man is happy in his bedchamber, he has naught reason to take up with another.”
    “That is what my mother always said.” Her eyes grew wide, and her voice came out in a whisper.
    His breathing grew heavy, and he pulled her a bit closer, her heady scent and softened expression wreaking havoc with his blood