Free The Heiress Bride by Catherine Coulter Page B

MacDuff—surely that nickname was stranger than her own nickname, Sinjun—seemed a pleasant man, and more important, very fond of Colin. Even sitting by the bed he looked huge, not fat, no, not at all, just hugelike a giant. His laugh was huge, too, shaking his entire body. She liked him. She had no qualms about MacDuff because she’d told him that if he tired Colin, she would personally boot him out.
    He’d looked down at her from his vast elevation and grinned. “You’re no coward, I see, just a bit stupid to take this mongrel into your home. Nay, I’ll close my trap when the time comes so as not to tire out the poor lad.”
    In perfect accord, she’d taken him in to see Colin.
    Even now he was rising and saying to Colin, “It’s time you rested, old man. No, no arguments. I have promised Sinjun and I have a mighty fear of her.”
    â€œHer name is Joan. She isn’t a man.”
    MacDuff raised a violent red eyebrow. “A bit irritable, are we? A bit of a green color about the gills? I will see you in the morning, Ash. Do what Sinjun tells you to do. She’s invited me to the wedding, you know.”
    And MacDuff the tree trunk was gone.
    â€œHe has no Scottish accent, just as you don’t.”
    â€œMacDuff, despite his nickname, prefers the English side of his family. My father and his mother were brother and sister. His mother married an Englishman from York, a very wealthy ironmonger. Both of us were educated in England, but he went more deeply into it than I did. I used to think he would cut all ties with Scotland if he weren’t tied to it so closely, at least that’s what he always said. But now I believe he’s changed his mind, because during the past few years he’s lived most of the time in Edinburgh.”
    â€œYou’re tired, Colin. I want to hear all about this, but later, my dear.”
    â€œYou’re a nag.”
    He sounded sour, which pleased her. He was mending.
    â€œNo, not a nag. One rides a nag,” she said, patting the covers at his shoulders.
    He stared at her. “Your sexual innuendos aren’t at all the thing for a virgin.”
    He realized she had no idea what he was talking about and snorted at her. “Just go away, Joan.”
    â€œAll right. Forgive me, Colin. You’re tired and must rest.”
    She turned at the door. “Would you like to marry me the day after tomorrow?”
    â€œPerhaps if I can walk tomorrow I shall be able to ride the day after tomorrow.”
    She cocked her head to one side in question, and when he just continued to look sour, she smiled and left him.
    Colin lay back and closed his eyes. He was worried, very worried, and so angry he wanted to spit. MacDuff had come to tell him that the MacPhersons were moving on Kinross lands. They’d heard about his financial ruin, knew he was out of Scotland, and had thus taken advantage. They were, according to MacDuff, freely raiding Kinross land and sheep. They were vultures, normally incompetent and content to whine about all their misfortunes—all brought on by themselves. They’d even killed several crofters who’d tried to save their homes from pillage. His people were doing what they could, but there was no leader there for them. Colin had never felt more helpless in his entire life. Here he was, lying in this lovely damned bed in this beautiful house, weak as a day-old foal, and useless to himself and to his family and his people.
    Marrying Joan Sherbrooke was the most important thing he could accomplish. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had rabbit teeth, so long as her guineas were shining and numerous. Nothing mattered except smashing the cowardly MacPhersonsand saving Vere Castle and all the other Kinross properties. He had to move quickly. He tried to rise, gritted his teeth at the wash of pain through his thigh, and fell back again. Colin’s head began to pound. The next time Joan