Free One Night with the Highlander (The Gilvrys of Dunross) by Ann Lethbridge Page A

revulsion instead of warmth.
    “My first husband died many years ago,” she said calmly enough. She dipped a curtsy, intending to hurry on, like a coward. To avoid the embarrassment of small talk. Of trying to pretend they were friends.
    He shifted. A small move, but it effectively blocked the path to freedom, to cool fresh breezes that would drive the heat from her face.
    “I had not heard you were in the neighborhood,” he said. “Are you visiting your family?”
    If forcing herself on her mother could be called visiting. And based on the news Annabelle had just received, she would be less welcome than she’d expected.
    “Yes,” she said flatly. “I am visiting.”
    He looked a little nonplussed.
    Good manners required she say more. “I called in for the mail on my way to see my mother.” She offered a tentative smile. “And you? Are you visiting Mrs. Blackstone and her niece?” she asked, recalling it was because of Mrs. Blackstone’s niece, Lady Jenna, he had come to Barton Sidley that first time. He’d brought the girl, too. An elfin, sad-faced child he had escorted to her aunt after her father died. A curiously independent little creature who must be twenty by now.
    He frowned. “Mrs. Blackstone passed away a few days ago. I am charged to bring Lady Jenna back to Carrick Castle.”
    A feeling of disappointment hollowed Annabelle’s chest. What? Had she thought he might have returned on her account? After all this time? That really was being foolish. “I’m so sorry. Poor Lady Jenna, she must be devastated by the loss of her last family member.”
    “Her aunt had been ill for some time. Quite frankly, I do not think she should have been left to manage here alone.”
    Annabelle hesitated, trembling inside with fear of rejection. Cowardice, when she had resolved never to let what people thought beat her down. “May Mother and I call on Lady Jenna? To offer condolence? If she is receiving, that is?”
    He looked pleased. “I am sure she would be delighted.”
    Then he must not have heard the gossip. Yet. Her heart lifted.
    “I am just returned from America,” he said, filling the growing silence.
    The smile on her lips seemed to have a life of its own. She was probably grinning like one demented. “America? Were you there long?”
    He gave a short laugh. “For more than five years. Looking after my father’s business interests.”
    America. So faraway. It sounded wonderful. “But now you are back.”
    His face sobered. “For a while.”
    Other questions hovered on her tongue. Married? Children? Happy? Patience , she cautioned herself. These were all things she would learn on the morrow. “Mother and I will come in the afternoon. If you would be so good as to let Lady Jenna know.”
    He bowed. “She will look forward to it. Feel free to bring Lord Merton, if he accompanies you.”
    The mention of her husband brought the evils of her situation back in a rush. “Lord Merton passed away earlier this year,” she said, keeping her voice emotionless. “Good day, Mr. McLaughlin. I look forward to seeing you and Lady Jenna tomorrow.”
    No amateur in the ways of the world herself, she took a small step toward the door, forcing him to stand aside and bow his farewell. “Until tomorrow, Lady Merton.”
    She did not miss the spark of interest in his eyes.
    Was she wrong about him? Had he heard, and decided to try his luck? But surely he would not knowingly expose his precious cousin to a woman with her reputation? Edinburgh’s wanton Black Widow.
    * * *
    Gordon could not help but watch the sway of her skirts at her quick firm step as she departed the shop. Or the proud tilt of her head on her slender neck. She’d been lovely as a girl of eighteen, with dove-gray eyes and hair the color of amber. A spirited girl. All laughter and passion. As a woman she had new depth. A new reserve. And secrets. But the passion between them remained. Held in check. Controlled. But there nonetheless, as it had been the